The Big Bust
by NothingExtra
Summary: Big risks, big payoffs. That's the rule of life for people who like gambling at long odds. Although for a newly hired pilot being sent on a sketchy mission to a moon temple, those odds may be too steep. He doesn't know that yet, though. He still needs to meet the glass brain. That's right, glass brain. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note

 _All right, as long as I'm using clichés, first things first: the universe that these stories happen in are a little different from the ones y'all are probably used to. Since Star Fox was a game made in the nineties, my 'future' setting for this story will have an image of the future that was expected in the nineties. If you have seen_ Aliens _,_ The Matrix, _or played the original_ Starcraft _, you should know what to expect. Think power armor, railguns and fusion reactors existing side by side with paper money, jukeboxes and VCR-looking visual feeds. It's a style choice that I would like to try, both to see if it fits in with the story and because of the "rule of cool". If this keeps you from suspending your disbelief, then you should probably stop here. If I don't think the style fits, the next story won't have it._

 _This story will be a short one. Think of it as a test run to see what I can make out of some OCs, a premade setting, and some spare time. If things turn out well, maybe I'll make stuff with the actual main characters. Let me know in the review section what y'all think, and I'll act on it._

* * *

This story starts in a converted airport placed in the middle of a dusty, scrubby plain. Surrounded by short bushes and low hills and at almost eighty years old, the main building was supposed to host craft moving both supplies and people from one continent to another. Originally designed as an adjustable military base to deter future aggressors, the place started out as little more than a few hangars, two fuel depots, some asphalt, and a token building with a dirt floor. With each new addition, the age of the base became more pronounced. Cobwebbed bunkers, ancient wire gates, rusted warning signs, and flickering lights were highlighted as they found themselves juxtaposed with shiny new buildings that had fiber-wire, decent light bulbs, tile floors, and adjustable launch pads.

Decades passed, and as the aggressors either collapsed or dispersed, both the base and the world had undergone enough changes to convince the original owners that it would be more lucrative to sell it off to someone who could actually do something with it. As a result, it became a mid-sized commercial launch pad for both cargo and passengers, located in a spot that could reach an orbiting ship with minor fuss.

It was in the early morning, when dawn was still hours away and the thick fabric of night was only pierced by small red and yellow pinpricks of color dotted along the airstrips and windows of the shuttle port, when a single car began pulling into the front past the gates. Stopping by the entrance, a lone figure clambered out before the car backed out and quickly pulled away.

The figure, pulling a large bag over his shoulder, made the slow trek to the main building. As he approached the pale, bright lights overhanging the glass doors, his features became more apparent.

Approaching the automatic doors with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder was a tall, lean bobcat. Wearing a thick, brown bomber jacket, a blue cap, denim pants, and dark boots, he stopped at the door and squinted through the glass beneath the light. Looking through the doors, he saw the check-in terminals: a long row of tan-colored consoles with convex screens and keyboards, all at waist-height. The whole building looked deserted save for one figure: a tall hairless cat in a dark suit. He was standing near the terminals, leaning over a single softly glowing terminal as it gave him a faint greenish silhouette. All the other terminals had blank, dark screens. He was not typing.

Taking off his cap by its bill and scratching his broad, triangular ears, the bobcat replaced his cap and trudged in, his breath leaving small clouds as he entered. At that exact moment the figure straightened up, picked up his suitcase, and made a slow walk towards one of the nearby hallways. As he walked away the suited cat made one brief sidelong glance at the newcomer before turning away and disappearing around a corner.

As he approached the check-in terminals, the bobcat went from a slow walk to a brisk jog, zig-zagging past the empty waiting chairs and stopping at the sole glowing terminal. Dropping his bag, the bobcat fumbled around his jacket pockets until he pulled up a single scrap of paper. Looking at the terminal's glowing green typeface, he held the paper in one hand and began typing on the keyboard with the other.

* * *

USER NAME?:

/

* * *

USER NAME?:

/ Neil Binch

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/ Lowell-Tang 48ZKI

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/**ERROR**

FLIGHT NOT FOUND

ENTER VALID FLIGHT NUMBER

* * *

The bobcat frowned, sighed, and retyped the code.

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/ Lowell-Tang 448ZKI

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/**ERROR**

FLIGHT NOT FOUND

ENTER VALID FLIGHT NUMBER

* * *

Narrowing his eyes, the bobcat reentered the code again.

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/ Lowell-Tang 448ZKI

* * *

ENTER FLIGHT:

/**ERROR**

FLIGHT NOT FOUND

ENTER VALID FLIGHT NUMBER

* * *

Swearing softly, the bobcat looked back at his paper, and typed it in one more time, this time getting a new message:

* * *

**PLEASE WAIT FOR FLIGHT SECURITY**

* * *

"Oh, _no_."

Groaning and looking around, there was a few seconds before the bobcat heard some footsteps echoing off the halls and the sterile, white-tiled floors. Approaching him was a stout badger, wearing a blue uniform and a neon yellow safety vest.

"Hey!" the badger boomed,

"Are you Binch?"

The bobcat froze. He was fifty meters away from the badger, who was calling from the security terminals that crowded around the nearby hallway. He nodded. The badger responded by turning around and waving him over. The bobcat paused, tilting his head forward and peering through narrowed eyes before bending down and picking up his bag to follow the badger. The guard, followed by the bobcat, entered the security terminals, passing right through the metal detectors, ignoring them as they buzzed. Catching up, the bobcat walked beside the badger, turning his head to look more at his features.

Slightly shorter than the bobcat, the guard had a small pistol on his side, black shoes, and a flashlight. His face was gaunt, with deep bags under his sunken, yellow eyes; he had a small brown streak trailing under his muzzle. Breathing in, the bobcat could smell the guard's sour breath, tainted by cigarettes and dip.

Casting a jaundiced eye at the bobcat, but with his face still forward, the guard rumbled:

"You're the one with the private shuttle, right?"

The bobcat nodded, his eyes trailing the windows of the building. His eyes roved from one feature to another: the shuttering lights that lined the ceilings, the ripped leather on the waiting chairs, the dark windows that let you see the airstrip, lighted only by some slowly-flashing guide lights.

" _This_ is the one you're lookin' for."

Pointing a gnarled claw at a single set of doors beneath a dimly glowing EXIT sign, the guard moved forward, pushing them open. A few hundred meters beyond him was a single shuttle. As the bobcat stepped forward, the badger abruptly turned and _slammed_ the doors behind him. The bobcat looked back with raised eyebrows before trudging forward, with the wind blowing dust softly across the tarmac.

Silhouetted against the darkness was an ugly, white-with-black-streaks, delta-shaped craft with a rounded nose cone and ramp leading to its single, open airlock. With only a single bright white light above its door, there was another figure standing in it. An orange-uniformed guard: a snow leopard wearing a bulletproof vest, combat boots, cargo pants, and a helmet with a small mounted camera, all while holding a small submachine gun pointed at the ground. She stood at the top of the ramp. Rousing herself from her leaning position, she watched him approach the airlock. Giving him a quick glance-over from foot to head, and finally focusing on his face for a few seconds, she put away her gun and pulled out a small clear tube with a needle in it and motioned for the bobcat's hand.

The bobcat looked at the needle with suspicion, curling his lip. The leopard explained,

"Standard operating procedure. Just need to check."

He didn't move. She sighed again,

"Look, if I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it by now. This is nothing. Just need to make sure you're the guy."

There was a few seconds' pause until finally, the bobcat put his left hand forward. The leopard held the tube between two fingers and reached into her vest, pulled out a small eraser-shaped sponge, crushed it and began rubbing the bobcat's wrist. Throwing the sponge away onto the tarmac, she took the tube and pressed it against his wrist. Pulling it away, a small bead of blood formed where it was pressed. Pulling out a grey box from her belt, she stuck the tube into one end and watched the small LED screen. After a while, she nodded, and then stepped aside.

Ducking his head to get into the airlock, and with the guard following him, the bobcat waited as the outside door closed. After the slow _hiss_ followed by a loud _chunk_ , the inner door swung open. Entering it, the bobcat walked towards the rear past the seats and started looking for a place to drop his bag.

"I'll take that."

He turned around to see the leopard, with her weapon over her shoulder, offering her hand. She was a little taller than he was, and slightly stocky, with the muscles on her forearms showing prominently as she extended her hand. On her face was a bored expression, with her eyelids lowered and her head tilted forward, and accompanied by a small, wry grin. He paused again. After looking back at her holstered gun, he gave her his duffel. Turning around, she moved to the front of the cabin, entering the door at the front end. After the door closed, he was left alone.

The inside of the craft was lit both by floor lighting and by light bulbs above each seat. There were few windows. With only three seats, the width of the cabin was barely enough for someone to squeeze between the chairs and the walls. Electing to choose a seat near the front, the bobcat settled in.

After locking himself in, the lights on the shuttle went dark, and the floor lighting gave the cabin an eerie red glow. The cabin shuddered, and he began to feel the ground moving beneath him. As the cabin rumbled, the bobcat slowly turned to see through the window. Through it, he looked over the tarmac. Among the numerous craft that littered the pavement, from small drone-cargo craft that could ship single crates into orbit to a single massive passenger liner, the bobcat's gaze wandered to one small point. The control tower, a concrete spire some two hundred meters high, had a single large window that circumscribed the entire top floor. Inside was a single dog standing up, away from the computers, and talking to a suited cat.

Some minutes passed. After trundling up through the tarmac, the shuttle's engines began a deep basso rumble. After a few more minutes, they started to roar; and finally, after some effort on the part of an aging chemical-powered motor, began a high-pitched whine. Skipping once, twice, and on the third hop, the craft left the ground: a glowing yellow torch that began its sharp ascent at almost a ninety degree angle. A few moments later it broke the dark clouds above the starport. Soon after, it was gone from sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes:

 _This next part's gonna be a bit longer. For everyone who decided to come for a second chapter I'd like to say: thanks! I'm new at this, so views and any kind of feedback are all really appreciated. This next part will be a bit longer, and it'll have more plot._

 _A warning, though. My writing leans towards some vulgar language. If you are uncomfortable with vulgar humor, I'd tell you steer well clear of the story. If an asshole's talking, expect asshole words. Same for other kinds of folks._

 _E.g., the language and behavior should be pretty contextual. Don't expect nice guys to suddenly turn into raving douchebags. At least, not without a good reason._

* * *

Some hundreds of kilometers above the surface, moving at several thousand meters per second and slowly accelerating at almost one G, a single starship orbited the planet. At a glance, it was a lengthy gray and white half-cylinder that tapered to a wedge on one end. Attached to each of the cylinder's two sides were multiple spheres, connected by a series of thin pipes and frames. A single broad red stripe ran the length of the ship's sides. Snug between the two rows of spheres, on the top of the craft, were a series of white shuttles of varying sizes. Among all these features were smaller details like antennae, fuel pods, and a single long, thin pipe that ran the length of the ships underbelly.

In short, it looked like a flying tube of toothpaste with Christmas tree balls strapped to it and feathered with some pale cheese wedges. It looked like it was more likely to blown apart by the cosmic wind than survive deep-space travel.

The insides looked little better. The ships' guts were a maze of tight corridors, pipes, floor lights and grates. The inner walls had exposed and fraying wires, forming worn-down sinews between each room of the ship. The lights inside occasionally flickered, or refused to turn on altogether. Pipes gathered condensation, or blew off steam, depending on where they were.

One occupant, a female opossum with a baggy orange jumpsuit and a checkered bandanna wrapped around her head, had made the mistake of leaving a toolbox on one of the hotter pipes. Getting up from the floor panel she was rooting around in, she reached towards the pipe without looking and brushed a knuckle against a pipe that was moving superheated coolant.

With a loud _HISS_ and a yelp, she pulled back her hand, knocking over the toolbox so that it fell with a descending crescendo of expensive objects hitting the floor.

 _BONG_ - _CLANG-_

" _¡_ _AY, FREGADO!"_

 _\- clink-tinkle-clink._

A series of bolts, nuts, socket wrench parts and LED light bulbs scattered across the floor, with smaller ones falling through the grates. Beneath the grates were more pipes; and beneath them, another room. Scrambling around for the smaller parts, she accidentally brushed some of the smaller parts into the grate, earning more faint clinks as they landed on the floor beneath.

"HEY, _WORTHLESS,"_ a single echoing voice bellowed from beneath the grate.

Beneath the grated floor, past the pipes, a face looked upward. A long grey muzzle with bared, yellow fangs.

"If you're fuckin' around, don't make me come up there and _straighten you out!_ I _OWN_ this place!"

The wolf speaking had contorted his face into a snarl before looking back down, revealing a small patch of mange on his head. Reaching up to scratch behind his ears, he finally stalked away.

The possum, frozen in place, held perfectly still for the whole conversation. When the wolf left, she waited several seconds before relaxing with a deep breath before swearing:

"If he tries that _again_ , I'm gonna make sure the freakin' toolbox lands on him."

The opossum then began to pick up the pieces before a loud _BONG_ noise sounded over the speakers, followed by a monotone, static-ridden voice that paused after each enunciated syllable.

"IT. IS. NOW. FIVE. FOUR-TEE. FIVE. PEE-EM. NEW. ARR-IVE-ALS. BOAR-DING. PREE-PARE. FOR. MID-FLIGHT. CUP-PLING."

The walls of the ship shuddered, and in the distance a loud, hydraulic groan echoed through the halls, shaking every surface on the ship. Picking up the last of her tools the opossum stood, toolbox in hand, and surveyed the space around her before the synthesized voice spoke again following another _BONG_.

"STAFF. MEET-ING. AT. REE-SHED-YULED. TIME. NEW. TIME. IS. SIX. FIF-TEEN. PEE-EM."

Rolling her head back, and with an open-mouthed groan that exposed all her fangs, the opossum started a brisk jog towards a porthole at the hallway's end.

"This place's gonna kill me, I swear to God."

* * *

Fifteen minutes after the announcement, a small crowd had gathered in the ship's auditorium. A generous name, considering that the two-dozen seats that were bolted into the floor had no armrests between them, and the distance between the wall and the nearest chair was barely wide enough for someone to pass by. To pass each chair, the entrants had to walk sideways past each seat, backs pressed against the wall. Even then, each person's groin would come in contact with a chair's upper corner, making for an uncomfortable procession for everyone involved.

At the front of the auditorium was a podium that stood barely a single meter away from the wall. Above the seats was a single projector, bolted to the ceiling. The entire room was packed with species of all shapes and sizes. Dogs, cats, birds, rats, hares, wolves, and even some lizards, to name a few. Those who couldn't find a seat leaned against the nearest wall. The sounds of low murmuring, shuffling and snapping gum filled the room as crew members filed in. A thin smog filled the room as cigarettes were extinguished and the lights began to dim.

At the podium, a fluorescent light shone on the wall and out of the shadows, a lean ferret with glasses, slacks and a button-down shirt stepped in front of the audience. Placing a water bottle on the floor and clearing his throat, he tapped the microphone attached to his shirt:

"Ah-huh-hem! All right, everyone's here?"

A short pause, some coughing, and then he continued,

"All right, I'm a representative of _Space Dynamics_ and I'm here, first of all, to detail today's mission."

Turning back, he produced a remote from his pocket, and the lights on the podium dimmed as the projector clicked on. On one slide, a title named:

 _Expedition to the Lowell-Tang_ _Moon_

 _Sponsored by Space Dynamics_

"Firstly, I know you've all been recently introduced to our additional security, the _Diamondheads_."

Another slide followed, showing the portraits of two lizards, a brown dog, a snow leopard, and a single hare.

In the back of the room, the lizards stirred from their resting positions and nudged their neighbors awake.

"I know some people are uncomfortable with letting former Venomian troops into our security but, rest assured, they are only a complement to our existing security personnel. We at Space Dynamics are an equal opportunity company and are proud of our diversity-"

Some murmurs rose from the crowd, followed by growls. The lizards, shouldered by the snow leopard and the hare, started looking around.

"-they all still follow the orders of our foreman, Mister Johnson Magnus" he added quickly.

At the mention of the name, a grey wolf in the front row leaned back, scratching his head and crossing his legs as they rested on the podium.

Quickly clicking past several slides, the ferret raised his voice,

"In addition, we have another pilot."

Another slide clicked forward, showing a portrait of a bobcat in front of a flag, wearing a uniform.

"We are proud to include a veteran of the Cornerian Army, Neil Binch, who helmed a carrier in his past service."

Sitting on the floor near the rear, the bobcat stood up, and looked at the slide to a smattering of applause.

"Now, our mission-

Another slide clicked forward. This time revealing a picture of an onyx-colored statue. It had a massive pedestal, and mounted on the pedestal was a creature.

"-is to find this."

Bow-legged, and with a stretched, oblong torso, was a creature that combined the facial features of a lamprey with the body and wings of a bat. The neck curled into a blossom of long teeth around a single gaping maw. No eyes, no ears, but the anthropomorphic body had embedded in it a honeycombed series of cavities so small and so pressed together that they looked like they shivered when you looked at them. They covered the creature's chest, stretching all the way down to the belly and the groin. The wings, seemingly paper-thin, were stretched outwards twice as long as the body was tall. The wings were ripped; holding the same honeycombed patter as the torso.

From the mouth of the creature, a small trail of crystal clear fluid bled down the front of the torso, forming a frozen waterfall that dribbled down into the honeycombed chest. Covering the surface of the transparent liquid were small red rivulets. Forming a pattern similar to the torso, the red veins covered the entire surface of the glass-clear flow in another honeycombed series of shapes.

The crowd stirred. Some strained their eyes to see the creature while others leaned forward. The foreman contorted his face, with one eyebrow lifted and the jaw slightly lowered as he mouthed a few words. Neil looked at the image and started rubbing his eyes, blinking repeatedly as he did so. The mercenaries looked at the images with renewed interest, with one pulling up a camera to take a photo.

"The company has a special interest in this statue, and we hope to recover it as a part of an archaeological study. We understand that Andross had a special interest in it-"

One hare raised his hand.

"-our job is to retrieve it and-yes?" The ferret looked at the hare,

"Why do we need a bigger security team for this?"

The answer was fast and well-rehearsed.

"This statue is very valuable. It's one of the few known remaining artifacts of the Low civilization. We expect there to be more than one interested group, and we need the security to ward off competing claims, as well as ensuring that no pirate group can seriously threaten us-yes?"

The ferret pointed at another person, a fennec fox, who had her arm raised.

"Uhhhh, you said Andross? Why'd he want it?"

Another practiced response.

"At the end of the campaign, Andross was obsessed with the relics of older civilizations. As the war went worse for him, he had started to collect them. Our best guess is that he thought they had _preternatural_ properties-"

More murmuring ensued. One of the lizards was slowly mouthing the second-to-last word with a focused expression. The hare who spoke was clicking his teeth with a furrowed brow, Neil was looking intently at the speaker, and the foreman wolf was slowly shaking his head.

"-and that they could somehow give him knowledge to succeed and—ugh, yes?"

The ferret was now leaning over the podium, rubbing his temples. The person who had a wing raised was a blood-red falcon.

"Where is it? How do you know where it is?"

The answer was another calm response, but tinged with slow enunciation.

"It is in a defunct bunker that has been sealed on the surface of the moon. It's been abandoned for _several_ years-"

The falcon spoke again,

" _Bunker?_ Why isn't the army involved? Why are we letting _Venom_ mercs-"

The response was lightning-fast and snappy:

"-we are working _jointly_ with the army, with Mister Binch also serving as an _adviser_ in _addition_ to his existing duties. This object is of a _sensitive_ nature, and greater military involvement would invite scrutiny that the army and the company would like to _avoid_. This is a mission that requires a degree of _discretion_ that a larger presence, either _military_ or _company_ -wise, would make harder to _obscure_. As for the _mercenaries_ ,"

The ferret took a gulp from his bottle and glared at the bird.

"-the army has vetted them very _thoroughly_."

Many words were stressed, with each syllable being strained by the ferret, as he spoke over the louder rumbling of the crowd. As he ended the crowd settled down, but not without a greater number of glares towards both the ferret and the _Diamondheads_. Some were even cast at the new pilot, who shifted uncomfortably.

The foreman stood, and turned to face the crowd with a hard stare. The group's growling had devolved into a low murmuring. The ferret looked up and with a tired sigh, asked,

"Are there any other questions?"

There were no hands raised.

"All right, we…managed to cover everything that was on the rest of the slide show so-"

He clicked off the projector, and drank from his bottle of water.

"-that'll be all."

With one last low rumble, the crowd stood, filing into the hallways at the end of the auditorium. The wolf approached the ferret and then started making gestures at the wall where the images showed up as he growled his questions. The ferret was leaning back from the wolf, while rapidly snapping back answers. After a while, the wolf paused, sighed, and pulled a canteen from his pocket. Offering it to the ferret, the ferret obliged, taking a swig before handing it back to the wolf, who took three.

* * *

The galley was crowded. Roughly a third of the crew were gathered around some rounded tables and had in front of each of them, a thin bread, with multiple separately-labeled rubbery vials of food and water. Taking a gulp from one vial, which he squeezed into the side of his mouth to avoid his buck teeth, a hare gulped down a " _Will & Poor's Veggie Soup"_, before quickly following with a slug of water from another vial.

To either side of the hare were other crew members. The fennec vixen from earlier, and the bright red falcon. Both were clad in baggy orange jumpsuits but the hare had a vest with a holstered pistol, and wore a helmet with a camera. On the helmet's surface, two holes were drilled to make room for the towering ears.

"I'm quitting."

The falcon and the vixen both turned towards the hare, who was staring intently at a spot on the wall. The hare had a bitter scowl, with his brown eyes frowning similarly under his knitted eyebrows.

"Harry, though, you've got _seven_ daughters. How will you find a job that-"

"I'll figure it out."

The hare snapped back at the falcon, who raised his brow at the terse response. The vixen looked around, seeing if anyone was watching.

"That whole show smelled awful" the hare mumbled.

"Well, yeah, but you don't actually think the statue's _haunted_ -"

The vixen replied to the falcon while bouncing her knees.

"Well, how do you know it isn't?"

The vixen had a small pendant around her neck, dangling outwards as she leaned forwards. The bird leaned back, and though he raised up his arms, scoffed,

"Still, you don't _really_ think-"

"It's more than just that."

The hare interrupted the falcon and the fox.

"Extra guards, Venom mercs, sealed bunker, Andross."

Harry spelled out each word, "any one of those things is already bad. All of them plus the creepy statue? Worse."

Harry took another swig of soup, followed again by the water. Clearing his throat, he spoke again,

"I'm leaving at the next stop, and y'all are coming with me."

Other heads began to turn towards the table. Looking around, the fennec leaned in and spoke softly,

"Harry, you're being loud again."

" _I don't care!_ "

The hare stood up,

"I don't care if everyone can hear me! Fact is, I _want_ _**everyone**_ to hear me!"

More heads began to turn. The cook, a black bear, leaned out of his cubicle-kitchen window to watch. An opossum leaned away from her empty table at the far end, took off her bandanna to expose her ears.

"This is a _crock_ of bull- _shit_!"

At this point, Harry had everyone's attention. Everyone in the room was looking at him. Many leaning in, some with folded arms, but all listening.

"Something is. Very _wrong_."

The hare was standing on the table now, his ears grazing the ceiling.

"We have a foreign crew-no, a foreign _military_ crew; a raving psycho's sealed bunker, and no army involved. And I don't care what he says, one advisor is _not_ enough for it to be military. _And_ -"

Harry hissed and pointed at the crew,

"-don't even get me _started_ on the statue. All of us deserve better than this-!"

" _HARRY!_ "

One voice bellowed out from the hall. The wolf, Johnson Magnus, was leaning out of the hallway with a hard expression and a curled lip. He raised a hand and motioned Harry forward with a finger,

"C'mere," he spoke in a more reserved tone.

Harry stopped, gritted his teeth and clenched his fists before jumping down with a _clang_ on the floor. He prowled towards the wolf, taking long, aggressive strides. He pointed at the wolf as he moved,

"I want words with you, I want _several_ words with you."

The wolf moved back into the hallway, with Harry following him. Nobody in the galley followed him, but many stood, ears perked. From the hallway came several exclamations, followed by several patient "yeses" and many, many emphatic "nos". Soon, the noise calmed down, and Harry walked back into the galley. Hunched over and with his hands in his pockets, and with a galley full of crew members looking expectantly at him, he looked at them once and then retreated down another hall.

Everyone in the galley sat back down, but spoke more with hushed voices. The fennec picked up the pendant, clasped it firmly between both hands and tilted her head forward with her eyes screwed shut. The red falcon looked around uncomfortably for another place to sit.

* * *

 _All right, that's the second chapter. A little more plot, so I hope it keeps y'all interested. Also, a shout-out to_ Vexed, _who was nice enough to give me a review. I'd recommend all of you to look for his "Chaos Effect" story since it is very, very good._

 _See y'all later._


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes:

 _So far, the cast's been set up, the setting's clear, and the first bits of plot are rolling._

 _Now, the fun starts._

* * *

Binch was sitting a room the size of a closet, with a door barely wide enough to fit his own bag through. He had placed his bomber jacket on his bed: a tiny sleeping bag strapped to the floor. Built into the wall, with a stool before it, was a computer. Neil was rapidly typing into the keyboard, looking from his fingers back to the screen and back again as he typed, when the speakers rang again.

"LOW-ELL. DESS-TIN-AY-SHUN. APP-ROACH. DEE-CEL-ERR-AY-SHUN. WILL. END. IN. TWO. HOW-ERS."

Neil Binch looked up at the corner of his cabin where the speaker was placed. Looking back down at his computer he quickly passed over everything he had typed, pressed the power button and stood up as far as he could before his sail-shaped ears grazed the ceiling's light bulbs. In a single, fluid motion, he stuck one leg through the door of his cabin followed by his head and his other leg. Looking at his room he reached back and picked up his cap, placed it on his head, and stepped back out.

Without his jacket, the bobcat appeared much thinner. Not skinny, but svelte: his shoulders were broad, but his neck was thin, and whatever muscle he had was well-hidden beneath his shirt. Looking around, he sighed through pressed lips and walked towards the nearest hatch. On it, there was a sign:

ABOVE: AUDITORIUM AND OFFICES

BELOW: LIVING QUARTERS

Stepping onto the ladder and looking up, he saw a long, speckled gray tail quickly whip over the edge of the hatch. Biting his lip, he started climbing.

When he reached the top, he looked around. Around him was a hallway only just wide enough to fit two people shoulder-to-shoulder, with one side having the doors to the auditorium, and the other being a series of doors with small windows built beside them, so you could catch a small glimpse into the room. Heading towards the auditorium, Neil glanced at the windows of the doors he passed, looking at each label beneath them.

HOWARD SZICSLECK

JOHNSON MAGNUS

HARRY MCDOUGLAS

MAGGIE LEE

At the third one down, Neil stopped, his jaws parted slightly, and stared. In the room was a hairless cat with chalk-white skin, milk-colored eyes, and wearing a dark suit.

Talking to him was a hare. The hare was seated, hands folded, and with a furrowed brow. He nodded occasionally, but did not speak. The cat's mouth barely moved. At first glance it looked like he was only taking slow, shallow breaths, but occasionally his tongue touched the front of his teeth, betraying his reserved appearance. His head was leaning forward, and no sound passed through the wall to Binch's ears.

After a few seconds, the cat stopped. His features froze, and he stood straight with a relaxed, calm face. Turning his head at the slightest angle, he looked through the window.

Binch met his gaze with raised eyebrows, but made no noise. Leaning slowly forward, the suited cat pulled a handle at the bottom of the window, and a panel quickly rose to cover it. Stepping back, and with a bewildered look on his face, Neil stared at the now-shielded window.

"Hey, guy, we're waiting for you."

He snapped out of his trance to look at the speaker. The snow leopard was at one end of the hall, next to another hatch. She was wearing a tight black compression suit: every feature, save her head, was plastered tightly to her body. Her breasts, once prominent, receded now into her rib cage and now looked more like an extra set of muscles. She was an imposing figure: every part of her looked like it was densely packed sinew, studded with the occasional metal seal.

With one flick of her still-exposed tail, she clambered up the stairs. Hesitating for a moment, and looking back at the window, he shook his head and then followed. Climbing up, and getting his face past the next few decks, he entered in as the team was getting ready.

"Alright, piece check, people. Safeties on, and triple-check the seals. I don't care if the suit says it's airtight, I want you to go an' check for yourself. I don't care if your guns' manuals say they're all ' _self-cleaning_ ', because they _aren't_."

One raccoon was changed into his armor and calling out orders, yelling to each person as he was putting on his own helmet. The weasel was also wearing a compression suit along with two of the _Diamondheads_ members, a brown dog and a lizard, who were busy checking each other's seals and tail sleeves. After a moment of fiddling the leopard finished sealing in her tail when she started walking towards a set of yellow footprints in the ground, inside of an elevator shaft. Quickly joined by the weasel, a red falcon in a green jumpsuit, an opossum in black-and-yellow checkered armor, and the two other mercenaries, the elevator grates clanked shut and moved upwards.

The rest of the team was still changing into their armor and were going through separate lockers, pulling out a wide assortment of weapons. One wolf had clicked a short tube onto the underside of his assault rifle, while a hare started to fiddle with his shotgun's LED display. The other lizard, a komodo dragon, had pulled out a series of ammunition boxes plastered with radiation warnings. Tails were just now being tucked into sleeves that had to be sealed at the small of the back, and ears were strapped down to the head with velcro. Binch had started to change into his own jumpsuit, a green one. It took more than an hour for everyone else to get set up.

The raccoon started calling out more loudly,

"O-kay! Everybody up to the shuttle, _Leggo! Move-it-up!"_

"Go! Go! GO! _HUT! GO!"_

The other seven crew members, raccoon and Neil included, started a brisk jog to a hatch built into the side of the room. The hatch led into a short tube, and opened up into a series of seats packed tightly together. Everyone picked a seat, save for Binch, who moved to the front of the shuttle.

The cockpit was unusual. It was less of a seat and more of a small, body-shaped hole. Once Neil entered, the aperture behind him sealed quickly and tightly with the motion of a camera lens. The sound of electrical humming was joined by the sound of hissing air. For a half-second, Neil was in darkness before a small space in front of him lit up. Green wireframes, lines, numbers and dots filled one of the screens in the front of him. A joystick slowly rose between his knees with an electric _whirr_ , and a large, heavy harness pressed him into his seat.

"Alright, pre-flight checking, all systems sound off."

The computer greeted him with four low tones, followed by a single, high-pitched _blip_.

"Detaching fuel lines,"

After tabbing off a switch, the cockpit shuddered, and a low electric hum resounded as more numbers popped up on the screen.

"tower, requesting external check,"

A scratchy, tinny voice responded,

"Copy that, _Mailman,_ you and _Twofer_ are cleared for separation."

"Gotcha."

Neil had tabbed off more buttons, but his face was still bathed in green light while the rest of the room was pure darkness. Not even looking at his fingers, Neil began to twist one of the knobs, lighting up another screen, this time with a grey, cratered expanse in front of him. Licking his lips, the bobcat spoke,

"Right. I'm gonna depressurize the rear cabin. Everybody settled?"

Another scratchy voice came in through his harness,

"Rah."

He made a small smile.

"Copy. Depressurizing rear cabin."

The low sound of air hissing from the rear joined the electric humming of the ship. It was five minutes before the sound dissipated.

"Separation in ten, nine…"

"We're gonna kill this mission."

"Aw, yeah."

"Or it'll kill us."

Low chatter was coming in from over the seat's speakers. Neil's hand tightened on his joystick as he thumbed the red button on the side,

"eight, seven, six…"

" _Whoo-eee_!"

"Hey, Welsh, you got any towels?"

"Why the hell would I have a towel?"

The sounds of cheering and growling were being made over the harness' speakers. Neil kept counting.

"five, four, three …"

A low grumble over the radio,

"The one good thing that'll happen before I die here is that I'll get to see the rest of you die first."

"Love you too, Gary."

Neil narrowed his eyes, focused on the screen in front of him, and kept counting.

"Go to hell, Welsh."

"Well, when I get there, I'll get to your _mothe_ -"

"Two, one, and…gone"

There was a sudden lurch. The screen flashed, with the wireframe of the ship coming into view. Neil's fur was rippling, with the zippers on his jumpsuit _tinkling_ and twirling as he stared at the screen.

"Firing engines."

The ship made a deep belching noise, with the cabin shuddering from the pulse. Neil twisted another dial, and spoke,

" _Twofer_ , this is _Mailman_ , you hear me, over?"

"Doin' fine, _Mailman_. Going into the pipe. You got me?"

"I gotcha. Five by five. Will follow."

The screen whirled in front of Neil, showing another small wireframe. The picture of the cratered moon remained in place. Reaching up and hitting a switch before placing his hand back on the joystick, Neil took a deep breath, and pushed the joystick forward.

* * *

Inside the larger shuttle _Twofer_ , the arrangements were different. Instead of multiple overhead lights, there were only a few dull yellow floor lights that formed straight lines towards the rear door. Rather than multiple rows of seats, there were only a handful of massive chairs, joined by two regularly-sized ones.

Inside each chair was a massive suit of armor: segmented and thickly plated, with each joint connected by short segments of tubes, coiled wires, and small covers. The shoulders, torso, and boots were solid ceramic-and-metal shells. Every suit looked worn, with paint scratched away to reveal dull chrome. The 'head' was a fishbowl-shaped metal dome. On the sides of these domes were spotlights, accompanied by more spotlights on the left shoulder pad.

One suit had its fishbowl slide open, revealing the face of a brown dog behind a tinctured, transparent dome. Reaching for the gun strapped to the wall beside him, the dog pulled it off its prongs with a _chunk_ sound, and stood it on the ground with one hand on the barrel.

Most, like the brown dog, carried some kind of cannon, one and a half meters long, with a thick body and a barrel wide enough to fit two fingers. At the top of these guns were small digital displays in green. Near the rear of each gun was what you'd traditionally expect on a rifle but in a much bigger size: with a grip, trigger, a box-shaped magazine, a selector lever, and in this case, an adjustable stock reinforced with industrial-grade springs. In addition to this, there were shoulder-mounted tubes on the right shoulder of each suit, complete with pinpoint flashing lights.

"All right, everybody, we are gonna make touchdown in about fifteen minutes. Give everything you've got a good once-over before you leave. Don't like making two trips."

The tinny voice was only heard in each person's helmet. The opossum, who was wearing checkered armor, was near the front of the cabin and seated facing the rear door. She held a large toolbox, and was beside a large, reinforced chest strapped to the wall. The radio crackled in her helmet,

"Uh, so how long is this _actually_ gonna be?"

The brown dog had started to talk from behind his helmet. A breathy, scratchy voice responded as another helmet cover went up, revealing the clear dome that held the lizard's head inside. He was a red lizard with a rooster-like comb wobbling on his neck.

"Seven hours. If we do it well."

"We have to find the statue, put it in a frame, and put that frame on wheels. That'll take the shortest time. The long part'll be dragging it out."

The weasel spoke from behind his yellow and black helmet. Instead of a cannon, he had a large blowtorch built into the wrist of his armor.

"What? No resistance?"

"Probably not. Lowell's on the ass-end of nowhere. Still, that's only _probably_ the case. We're here to make sure any defenses still in place can't do much."

The leopard had begun to talk when the shuttle experienced an abrupt jolt. The tinny voice from the suit radio was heard again,

"Alright, everybody off. Good hunting."

The rear of the craft had begun to slowly open, revealing a vast, dirt-brown landscape peppered with boulders, craters, and dust. Overshadowing the moon was a swirling, violet-tinged gas giant. A short distance away, at almost two kilometers tall and several kilometers wide, was a single cylindrical structure the same color as the ground. On the surface were several deeply-bored holes forming a belt around the column's middle. They were too high to look into.

One by one, the massive guards began to stand as their harnesses _popped_ off. With long strides, each guard walked off the craft, with some taking a look at the nearby structure. The opossum was at the end of the line, carrying in tow the large chest mounted on two wheels. The weasel was also carrying multiple long rods in a bundle tucked under one arm. Strapped to that bundle was a set of four wheels and a sealed bag of smaller parts.

After everyone was off, the shuttle closed its doors and soundlessly lifted off the ground, blowing dust away from its landing gear. Once it had left, they began to walk towards a small crowd near the base of the structure. The other team had already reached a semicircular aperture at the bottom of the building, with individual guards standing by the opening. The opossum's radio crackled,

"Come in, team two."

Putting up a hand to her head, she responded

"Copy, this is team two, we've got the bombs and the pipes. We're at the, uh, thing."

"Yeah, we're at the thing, too."

The voice responded drily, and continued.

"Once everyone is here, we'll go in all at once, but leave two guys at the door. _Mailman_ is landed a short ways away, so he'll stand by."

"Gotcha."

Everyone had gathered at the semicircular entrance to the column. The whole group formed a circle around the raccoon, who had raised his voice.

"Alright, chuckleheads, _listen up_! This is gonna be a _slow_ op. We are gonna take no chances, and we'll proceed with ab-so-lute _caution_. I don't know how many o' y'all girls believe in boogey-men, but we are gonna pretend that they're real just for the sake of _this_ mission. See anything wierd, speak _up_! Hear anything weird, speak _up_! Feel anything weird, _speak_. _Up_!"

The raccoon was intentionally lilting the ends of his sentences while glaring through his helmet's visor at the weasel. The weasel scowled and half-lowered his eyelids. The raccoon continued,

"Bigelow, you and Tinkle-bell can stand watch near the shuttle, keep comms open and for everyone wearing super-suits, I swear to God, _keep_ the _lids_ friggin' _closed._ You have _cameras_ in there that let you _see_. You do _not_ need them open."

Following some sighs and mumbling over the radio, the power-armored troops began sealing their secondary metal covers over their transparent helmets. On hearing the word "Tinkle-bell", one wolf groaned audibly.

"All right, lets _go_!"

Everyone but the leopard and a wolf stayed outside. The rest grouped into small squads of twos and threes as the raccoon directed them down the hall. Shoulder-mounted spotlights pierced the dark within as the squads entered one by one. Some time passed, and the lights faded into small distant pinpricks in the depths of the passage.

* * *

Inside the shuttle _Mailman_ , Neil was still sitting in the hole that passed for a cockpit. The screens in front of him flickered every few seconds as he twisted a dial by the joystick. Each image that flickered by was one that displayed the surface of the moon. He wore a very bored look as he cycled through each image of the barren, brown, and rocky landscape.

At one feed, he stopped, blinked a few times, and then switched to the prior feed. Grabbing another dial, he zoomed in on a particular spot and narrowed his eyes. On the screen was a small peak, silhouetted by the violet gas giant. Blinking a few times, he went back to cycling through different feeds.

A few more minutes passed, with more cycling through feeds until the radio started to crackle. Neil straightened up, and spoke,

" _Mailman_ here,"

The crackling grew louder, but only slightly.

Neil's eyes widened a bit. He spoke again, more forcefully.

"Who's this?"

More crackling, followed by a discordant noise.

The sound of a horn, howling, that steadily increased in pitch until it peaked with a gurgle, as though suddenly drowned. Then silence.

Moments passed, and Neil's jaws parted as he reached for the harness on his radio.

"Bigelow? Sandy? Come in,"

The radio responded with a tinny voice,

"This is Bigelow, what do you need?"

"I recorded a transmission from an unknown source, I wanna know if anybody else heard this."

Fiddling with more dials and pressing another button on his radio, the sound played again.

After it fell silent, it was a few seconds before anyone spoke.

"The hell was that?"

"I'm asking you. Y'all didn't hear this?"

"No."

Another voice piped in,

"Yeah, I'll call the other team. Also, send that to the ship."

"You got it."

Working on his radio, Neil looked back at the screen, and froze. Leaning towards it, he looked at the peak more closely.

Shimmering, and reflecting a bright light, was a surface made of glass, interspersed with chains of red veins.

* * *

"You said he got this? When?"

"About ten minutes ago. Also, he said he spotted some of that glassy-statue stuff on the moon's surface."

The raccoon was talking into his helmet as he walked, flanked by the red lizard and a hare. They were deep enough into the building that the only light present came from each suit's headlights.

"When'd he see that?"

"He said it may have been there the whole time, but he's not sure."

Huffing once, the raccoon growled,

"Right, thanks for the update."

"Copy."

The entire group was walking in darkness and silence. As a few spotlights pointed up the arched ceiling was lit, showing a smooth surface. The floor was similarly smooth, with no dips, cracks, holes or even dust. Every surface was spotless.

"What the hell?"

One spotlight frantically turned, quickly tracing the ceiling. The raccoon barked,

"Zipper, what was that?"

"Uh,"

One heavily armored suit pointed its cannon up towards the ceiling. On it, the words _Great Equalizer_ could barely be made out in sloppy white paint.

"I saw a twitch."

The raccoon snapped back,

"Whaddaya mean a 'twitch'?"

"I saw, uh, something stand straight up, then fall down flat again."

The raccoon snapped again,

"Where?"

"Like, _here_."

The spotlight circled a spot on the ceiling, a perfectly smooth surface section. The opossum spoke warily,

"Nothing's there."

Shifting his jaw and looking up, the raccoon spoke,

"Zipper, hold the light there. The rest of you, keep moving."

The one powered suit held its place along with the raccoon and the rest of the group moved forward. Each light swept at least once at the spot Zipper had lit before moving forward. The raccoon spoke softly, turning to Zipper,

"Are you _sure_ you saw something?"

"Well,"

There was a moment of silence,

"I'm not sure, no."

There was another long pause, followed by a sigh,

"Right. We _good_?"

The raccoon was staring at the suit's helmet cover for a few seconds before Zipper grumbled,

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Good. Now move it, _Zipper_."

The two started moving forward again when the raccoon's radio crackled again,

"Sir, we just found the door. We are breaking it open now."

The raccoon responded, breaking into a jog followed by Zipper.

"Wait 'till we're there. Don't break anything-"

"Understood."

When everyone arrived at the door, it was lit by a several suit headlights. One suited guard was looking in the other direction, scanning the hall.

The door was distinguished from the rest of the cavern in that it was a flat, half-moon shaped wall at the end of the hallway. It was divided by a hairline crack running down its middle. On one of the halves of the door, there was a keypad.

"Hold on, lemme get this."

The opossum jogged up, pulling up a small bar from her belt. On one end, there was a chisel-shaped edge. Sticking the edge into the top of the keypad, she pulled.

The keypad, popping off, revealed a series of wires that the opossum rooted around in for a while. Minutes passed before the keypad turned green, and the walls began to shake.

"Yo!"

The guard looking behind the squad shone his spotlight on another set of closing doors behind the team. With a shuddering crash, they sealed shut. A moment later, the edges of the floor began to emit small clouds of vapor.

"What-"

"JESUS!"

Bewildered yelps sounded through the radios. The group clustered tightly together, spotlights frantically searching around. For a while, nothing happened but the slow emissions.

The raccoon was taking several short breaths, eyes quickly darting around the edges of the doors, until a small green light started to flash in the corner of his eye.

"Hey,"

The raccoon turned, looking at the hare who spoke,

"Is anyone else getting an 'equalized pressure' message from their suit?"

Looking around, the raccoon took a step, then looked down in surprise on hearing his foot fall.

Another shudder was felt in the walls of the passage as the inner doors slowly ground open. Echoes reverberated through hall, and beyond the door, the chamber was revealed.

* * *

A circular room, dimly lit with violet light, was revealed to the party. At the floor's center a glassy pedestal covered in thin, spidery veins was revealed with a figure crouching on it. Low whistles were heard as the doors finally stopped moving. The raccoon moved to the front, and motioned for everyone to follow him. Stepping out of the hall slowly, and approaching the room, the suits' spotlight beams crisscrossed the walls. Moving cautiously, the whole group moved to the center as the raccoon hissed,

"Don't. Touch. An-y- _thing_. Zipper, Crick, and Welsh, check the room. Everyone else, watch their backs."

Spotlights whirled around the room, with some tracing the hexagon-shaped holes that were bored into the sides, halfway between the ceiling and the floor, but still too far up to be seen into.

As spotlights began to focus on the crouched figure, its shape became clearer. It was similar to the photo shown earlier, but not quite. It retained the bloated body, pockmarked belly, and lamprey's mouth that stood like a toothy flower at the end of its thin neck. The wings were still broad, and peppered with honeycomb holes. Although, the color had changed. Instead of being the glassy onyx-black idol seen earlier it was bleached to the tan color of dried bones, complete with furrows, rough edges, and pockmarks. And, at the lamprey-mouth opening, no clear liquid was present.

Wary looks were exchanged between guards as the group approached the center pedestal. In an irregular pattern on the floor, the veined glass had covered the surface in an uneven, solid mass. One guard stepped on it, audibly _crunching_ the surface. The raccoon gave a nasty look to the hare who had lifted his foot, and the hare returned an apologetic look before scraping his foot elsewhere on the floor. A subtle pulse reverberated the moment the hare lifted his foot from the glass. The footprint left behind held crushed shards and a small pool of red.

"Well damn, you're ugly."

The red lizard spoke as he looked at the statue, with a dry edge to his voice. The raccoon ignored him and began looking around the borders of the room.

Soon after the initial shock had dispersed, and after the room had been checked, the group began to settle down. Most still kept their lights moving, as beams started sweeping every portion of the wide, circular room.

The opossum and the suit-clad weasel started to approach the statue, but stopped at the edge of the uneven, veined glass. The weasel put down his bundle of beams and crouched to look at the substance.

At the part where the hare had walked, a boot-print that left spindly cracks in every direction, the red pool had receded, leaving only the crushed shards. Near the opossum a small set of veins, coiling like tendrils, reached into and dug into the floor nearby. As they moved, they grew a transparent cover, as though they were cocooning themselves in glass. The opossum reached up to her helmet, pressed a button, and a small flash briefly illuminated the stuff. She did this several times.

Some guards were leaning at the back of the wall. As the ceiling was crisscrossed by spotlight beams, a small, wraithlike shape was made between two of the passing beams. When they came together, the shape disappeared.

Looking furtively around one of the guards, a white fox with black ears, pulled out a knife from the sheath on his boot and started carving shapes on his gun. He was putting the finishing touches on a very detailed image of the raccoon getting hit by a bus. Near him, a crowd began to talk,

"So what do we do when we're done here?"

"Blow it up."

"Really? But-"

Someone interrupted the speaker,

"That's only if we spot Andross's critters."

Someone scoffed,

"Critters my ass."

The other lizard, a komodo dragon leaning against the wall, was speaking with a low drawl,

"'Yeah, I got your _critters_ ,"

He pulled a box labeled RADIOACTIVE-POLONIUM ROUNDS off of his belt as he made a broad, toothy grin. Holding up the box next to his head so everyone could see, he shook it as he acidly laughed,

"I gotcher' critters ri-i-i-i-ight here-"

 _CRACK!_

 _SCHRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHHH!_

At that exact moment, the faceplate of the Komodo dragon's helmet popped open with a bang. The crowd visibly flinched as the lizard made a noise halfway between a wail and a screech as the scales on his face sloughed off revealing bloody, pinkish bones latticed with veins and honeycomb-holes.

The sound seized everyone's attention, with the whole group quickly turning to see where the noise had come from.

Stunned, the crowd watched as the exposed skull spasmed in its place before the komodo dragon fell over with a _thud_. On the wall where the lizard leaned against, there was a small furrow, which slowly dissolved into the wall before everyone's eyes.

There was some silence. One person whispered softly,

"What the Christ-"

In the silence, a new sound was heard. The sound of sand and dust slowly sliding off rock. Spotlights turned upwards to see the walls. On the sides of the chamber a message was exposed:

I AM THE GOD OF BONES AND TEETH

With his gaze slowly tracing the extent of the message, which stretched all the way around the room's circumference, the raccoon had his mouth in an open snarl. The opossum was staring, wide-eyed at the dead body. The ferret was taking slow, shaky breaths. For a moment, nothing else happened.

Then, from the holes in the wall, too far above the ground for anyone to see, a noise emerged.

The sound of a horn, howling, that steadily increased in pitch until it peaked with a shrieking gurgle until the whole room was bathed in it.

* * *

 _If anyone here can pick up all of the references, you deserve a cookie._


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes:

 _More confusion. I found some issues with this chapter, some were technical, while others had more to do with the shift in tone. I decided to take down the old chapter and clean it up. Big thanks to Elarix and Vexed, who managed to pinpoint the parts that had problems. Again, this is a learning experience for me, so I'm glad folks gave me some advice to help me fix it. Next chapter will be up soon. Expect it in the next few days._

* * *

"WELSH!"

"It's on the wall! IT'S ON THE WALL!"

"BEHIND YOU!"

"WHERE IS ZIPPER!?"

"It's by the holes-!"

"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Inside the _Mailman_ , Binch could hear every word shouted and every gun fired. The sounds came through his harness, giving voice to every angry war cry and every anguished sob. He was talking fast, trying to shout over every other noise that flooded his cockpit.

"Binch, _goddamn it_ _ **what is happening**_ _?"_

One more voice appeared, coming from another monitor. Magnus's face filled it. He looked from one monitor to another in a manic hurry as spittle flew off his lips.

Before Neil could respond, the voices of Bigelow the snow leopard and Sandy the wolf sounded over the radios. The wolf spoke first, yelling over the din,

"We're locked out! Nobody's talking back to us!"

"Binch, can you blow the place open-? _What_?"

Magnus was speaking quickly, barking into the screen as his gaze focused on the bobcat.

At the last word the wolf leaned out of the frame for a moment, and then turned back to the screen. Binch responded quickly,

"Not sure. I've a hunch shooting the place would collapse it."

"We need to get 'em out! I'll start to—hold on— _who_ -"

The wolf's feed abruptly ended. The shouting was soon joined by shrieking and more gunfire. Binch began snapping out orders,

"Bigelow, Sandy, get in. Do not go into the building. Repeat. _Do not go in_."

"We're not leaving them-"

"We are not. I don't know if staying in one spot is safe, I'm gonna keep circling until we figure out what to do."

Binch looked back at where Magnus' feed disappeared. He spoke,

"Magnus, I need you to give me another shuttle."

The feed turned white and flickered for a moment. No Magnus.

"Magnus, I need your help. Send me another shuttle."

No response.

"Dammit, the feed died."

Growling, Binch flipped a switch. The shuttle began to shudder as it emitted another electric hum. The leopard shouted as she entered:

"All right! We're in! Sandy?"

Bigelow's face showed gritted teeth. Sandy strained her eyes for a few seconds before she spoke,

"Okay, I think I saw-"

She stopped halfway through and shook her head.

"scratch that, it's a rock."

Neil stopped, opened his mouth briefly, and then closed it. He returned to pushing the throttle.

* * *

" _My hands!_ "

" _WHO'S POPPING THE FUCKING SMOKE_?!"

"Foreman! _Foreman!_ "

Chaos filled the room. Spotlights did mad pirouettes through the darkness as a dense fog began to fill the chamber. The chatter of small rifles joined the chorus of booming cannons. It sounded like hearing a thunderclap every tenth of a second, right next to your head.

The raccoon shouted at the top of his lungs. Swirling around him were flashes, smoke, and flitting silhouettes that changed with every passing blink. A spark flew off his shoulder, kicking off a shard of ceramic. Lurching to the ground, he began to cry,

"Friendly fire! _Friendly Fire!_ "

The noises continued without any sign of change. A small crimson spurt splattered the visor of his helmet as he began to crawl away. Out of the smoke, a ropey shape emerged and struck him in the back, smacking him like a bundle of wet towels.

Flipping himself over, the raccoon looked at the bundle. Strewn across his back and the floor was a tangled chain, broken in parts, of organs. Hues of pink, maroon, and dark red crumpled themselves up in a wet knot, with one long rubbery piece trailing behind.

Shaking it off, the raccoon began to crawl further before another shape pounced onto him. Wraithlike, the shadow stuck an appendage, then two, then three into the wriggling raccoon. Loud shrieks followed. Through the fog, a huddle of shapes had gathered near the door. One shone a light on the writhing melee. The raccoon screamed,

" _RUN, DAMMIT, RUN!_ "

A long, anguished cry followed the outburst as the figure began to shear and pull pieces out of its victim. After the cry had ended, a half-moon shaped door began to close behind the huddled group. Afterwards, only the shrieking and howling remained.

* * *

Inside the hallway were only three figures. One was Zipper, the other was the opossum, and the third was the white fox with black ears. Only Zipper, the brown dog, carried a weapon. The marble fox was in a heap on the floor, unmoving. The opossum was kneeling on the ground, hands over her head. The sounds from behind the walls had already died before the room began to hiss and shudder again. Before long the outer door had begun to open, leaving the group again in silence.

Zipper straightened up, walked over to the fox, and then gingerly picked him up with one hand. Carefully tucking him under his thickly plated arm, the helmet of the suit turned to the opossum, shining a light on the checkered yellow and black suit.

"You okay, buddy? Can you stand?"

The scratchy radio voice rang inside the opossum's helmet. Getting up quickly, with a dazed expression behind her visor, the opossum coughed once before whispering a soft "yeah".

"Away team, are you there? Away team, come in. Away team, are you there?"

Zipper began to talk as Binch's voice began to sound through the radio.

"This is Zipper, I got two others. The rest are-"

A short breath,

"they're-"

A long, shuddering breath,

"Oh, _shit_ , they're _gone_."

A brief silence.

"Did you hear us calling?"

"Calling? Ah-… Uh-…uh-no."

Zipper was taking deeper breaths as his suit tilted forwards slightly.

"Okay, listen. I need you to get to the entrance. I will be outside."

Zipper straightened up and his voice cracked as he spoke again,

"Right. Bringing out two others."

"Double-time, come on."

Zipper began a slow run. He was followed by the opossum, who was taking staggering strides. Tripping once, she got back up and broke into a sprint.

At the end of the tunnel, the pinprick of light began to shine a little brighter. As it came into view, the barren landscape began to show itself again.

* * *

"Magnus, respond. Foreman, respond."

No voices came from the monitor that used to show the face of the wolf foreman. Binch was licking his cracked lips as he continued the repetition. The leopard in the rear cabin kneeled with one had on a handle built into the wall of the shuttle, and with her cannon pointed out the open rear of the cabin. She watched the ground wheeling beneath her as she held on. Sandy strapped herself in. Both women wore tense faces, with mouths drawn tight and teeth slightly exposed. The wolf was blinking quickly as she looked over all the empty chairs.

Minutes passed before the leopard relaxed a little and spoke up,

"I'm kinda impressed, Binch. I don't think I've seen you panic this whole time."

The tinny response scratched over the speakers,

"That's only on the outside. Inside, I'm really just screaming."

"Oh god, that was almost funny."

Sandy spoke up. She smiled, but with a bit lip and watery eyes.

"Is Magnus not responding?"

"No. The ship's still in orbit."

Sandy swore. She started to bounce her leg off the floor of the shuttle. A short while followed before Binch asked a question,

"Sandy, when we took off-"

A deafening pause.

"-who did you see?"

Sandy made no sound for a second, then began a series of unsure noises,

"Well, its-, uh-, it's, it's-nothing."

Neil's forcefully responded, with every word enunciated and stretched to make a long question out of a short sentence:

"Are- -you- - _sure_?"

The wolf took a moment to look down, focus on her knees, and then looked back up.

"Yes."

A few seconds passed.

Neil took a deep breath, let it out through his teeth, and kept speaking.

"Anyway, all y'all kept calm just as good as I did. We'll pull through."

The leopard responded with a low tone,

"Damn right we will."

On the back of her suit, there was a single sticker with the phrase _Caution: Makes Wide Turns_. On either shoulder pad were painted bright blue wings. As she turned to look at the wolf, the wings rotated slightly. The metal dome-helmet lifted, revealing her face behind the second, transparent cover.

The leopard's face carried bags under her eyes, highlighting the bloodshot whites above them; her pupils shone like a pair of bright beams in the dark. She looked worn out, but determined.

"We're gonna turn back and pick them up. Then we bail."

Neil interjected, "I see 'em!"

The shuttle began to tilt sharply to the left. With an iron grip on the handle, the leopard barely moved. She looked over the brown, dusty landscape only barely lit by the violet gas giant overhead.

The shuttle made a rapid descent, with the ground coming closer with every second. One large figure, followed by a smaller one, approached at a lurching gait. Putting her rifle on the floor, Bigelow reached forward and took up the unmoving white fox. Zipper stepped onto the craft with the opossum following at a dogged pace.

Tripping again, the opossum collapsed on the floor of the shuttle. Zipper reached over with a lurch and clumsily pulled her up, with her crashing into the nearest chair after he let go of her. Sandy unbuckled and shouted,

"All right, everybody's in, let's go!"

"Zip, hold on, lemme see your back."

As the rear door began to close the leopard reached for Zipper, who was fumbling with the wall harness for his gun. Dropping his gun, Zipper obliged and turned around with a lumbering stumble. Sandy was frantically removing a stretcher from the shuttle wall.

Patting around the back of his suit with individual metal fingers probing every feature, her fingers eventually dipped into a sharp, blackened hole the size of a fist in the middle of his back. Bigelow let out a low whistle, and spoke softly,

"How's your suit? Any breaches?"

"Yeah, got hit a coupla times. Felt _one_ actually get through-"

Zipper spoke breathlessly, heaving between each word. Sandy had the fox on the stretcher, and got to work wrapping him into it. As Bigelow kept searching for more holes in the suit, the dog's metal cover slid open, revealing his gaunt face. He had some tear stains marking his cheeks. Coughing, he continued,

"-right arm got peppered a bunch. The breach sealed itself, and I think the co-

He stopped, coughing with a loud hacking sound before he continued with a scratchy voice.

"-coagulants should stop anything from getting worse."

The cabin began to re-pressurize, and soon, green lights began appearing on every helmet. The opossum staggered towards the nearest seat. Sandy started to work on the seals between her neck and jaw. After a few seconds, and one more hiss on the inside of her helmet, she took it off. She was joined by Zipper, who after a similar hiss, popped open his inner fishbowl-helmet. He stumbled towards the wall, and almost keeled over as he began to root around a bag on the side of the shuttle. He staggered back, holding a single tin can. The opossum had taken her helmet off already and let it roll onto the ground.

"Get a head count back there, who's left?"

"Just me, Zipper, Marbles, Sandy and Mary. Marbles is out cold. Mary is-"

A wet retching sound echoed through the cabin.

"-conscious."

Zipper took one look at the opossum with reddened eyes, grimaced, and then shakily put the tin up to his face. He hastily poured a pulpy brown lump into his mouth, with some spilling past his chin into the helmet. Tucking the wad into his cheek with his tongue between heavy breaths, and with some more falling out of his mouth, he tossed the tin back into the bag and slumped down against the wall with a thud. Sandy had gingerly worked the helmet off of the fox, and was carefully shifting his head around.

The opossum leaned forward, bile dripping from her lips as she stared at her wet boots. She was making hoarse, ragged breaths.

"Erry-body's _gone_. They _screwed_ us."

The opossum mumbled, bleary-eyed. Her lips began to tremble, and tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.

"An'-, an'- we just _ran_."

She was taking short, sharp breaths between each sob. The leopard looked once at her, warily, and stepped towards her, with her own helmet open.

"Hey, uh, listen."

She was kneeling on the ground, looking up at the opossum,

"It's okay, listen to me. It is _okay_. We're gonna be fine-"

The opossum's sobbing grew louder, with a trail of spit going down the front of her chin, joined by tears.

Bigelow kept looking around with a helpless expression as Mary cried. Sandy, standing up from the fox, jogged over to the pair. She gave Bigelow a serious look and waved one hand away from her as she walked up. Bigelow put on a pained expression and shuffled away awkwardly as the wolf began to console her with a towel.

* * *

The group was huddled near the rear of the shuttle. The white fox had been tethered down to the floor, and had his head resting on a pillow. The guards in power armor were leaning by the rear door and everyone else, including Binch, either sat or leaned on the nearest chair.

"Well, we need a plan."

"Oh, well, _yeah_ , I agree."

The response was acerbic and snappy, with the wolf who delivered it folding her arms with a scowl.

Bigelow glared back as she continued,

"I don't know if Marbles is gonna get better, and we haven't heard back from the ship,"

Uneasy stirring rippled through the group.

"At this point, it'll have been almost twenty hours since we left. We've got one bathroom and some food so we're not completely _doomed_ , but we need to make sure that we all get some sleep, or we could get screwed up even worse."

Almost on cue Zipper began to yawn, exposing yellowed teeth. Looking at him, the leopard frowned and continued.

"So for first watch, I guess it'll be me looking after the fox. Who'll stay up to watch the outside with the cameras?"

Binch raised a hand. The leopard opened her mouth to respond, but Neil interrupted her,

"I still think the ship is nearby, and if we need to fly, I need to be up and in the cockpit. I can still use the cameras to see, and I'm trained to go for a pretty good while without sleep. Although, if the ship doesn't show up for the next twelve hours, then it's probably not coming back. At that point, I can afford to take a nap when we don't have anywhere to go."

Stopping to mull over the bobcat's logic, the leopard then nodded. As the group dispersed, Neil clambered back into the cockpit. Zipper found a wall, leaned against it, closed both of his helmet covers, and then stopped moving altogether. Sandy and Mary together found seats to lie across. Soon, the only sources of light were some dim LEDs on the walls joined by Bigelow's helmet light.

Hours passed, with the white fox laying almost perfectly still, and soft snoring coming from the rest of the group.

"Hey, Bigs."

Bigelow perked up, hearing the tinny sound over her helmet.

"What is it?"'

Her tired voice echoed through the room. Binch spoke again, but more softly,

"I don't want to bother you, but are you okay?"

"' _You don't want to bother me?'"_

The leopard repeated the question slowly with a dry tone.

"Well, if you'd like me to stop talking, I can just shut off the feed-"

"I'm just screwing with you, I'm just tired is all."

She placed her rifle on the ground. She relaxed, with one eye on the fox.

"I'm tired. But I've served on Fichina base, so I've lived through no sleep before."

"The snow globe from hell?"

"Eyup. You?"

She popped the P at the end of the word. Neil responded,

"Corneria."

"Where'd you serve?"

Her eyelids began to droop, but she kept talking. Neil spoke,

"On the _McCullough._ I got to helm the ship. Felt the catapults shoot off each fighter wave. I even felt the missiles launch-…uh,"

There was a brief lull, and then a sharp breath inwards over the radio. Twitching her ears, Bigelow made a very small smile,

"Relax. I never really fought for them. I got drafted, then booted to the pole with the rest of my unit. Never shot anything, never got shot at. Unless-"

She looked upwards with a thoughtful expression, furrowing her brow. Speaking again, she tilted her head forward and spoke cautiously,

"-unless you count the platoon dumbass getting high off of jalapeno fumes and then shooting the CO in the ass."

A soft laugh came over the radio,"That's bad."

"Not the worst, though", she continued, after a yawn.

"My guys also lost a nuke in the snow."

"Dang."

Her smile grew a little more, and she nodded,

"5 kilotons. Live training exercise in sub-zero temperatures. Someone had to explain that to the brass."

"That's pretty bad."

With her weary grin disappearing, she took a deep breath. Neil responded, speaking grimly,

"Not as bad as _this_ , though."

There was a pause, and Bigelow spoke in a low tone. The response was slow, but with a measured confidence,

"Relax, Neil, we'll live. We got you and Zipper, both. I still got some fight in me, and I'll do everything I can to make sure we all get out. Including you."

In the cockpit, away from Bigelow's view, Neil's ears twitched and reddened a bit as his brow raised. There was a short pause before he spoke, dryly, but with a smile,

"I'm glad you'll be the one to swoop in and save me, Bigs."

Bigelow's smile disappeared, replaced with a thoughtful expression. She furrowed her brow slightly as she looked at the speakers in the room. At this moment, the white fox's ears started to twitch. Seeing the movement out of the corner of her eye, Bigelow's gaze darted back to the fox's face.

"Binch. Binch, our guy's moving."

"How is he?"

The leopard leaned in closer to the fox. His expressions were changing slightly. Every now and then, his face would twitch, and his pupils shifted underneath his eyelids. At one point, there was a soft growl. The fox almost looked like he was about to sit up, but he fell back, whimpering.

"I think he's having a nightmare."

"Well, wake him up."

Bigelow began to tap the fox gently on his chest. He kept wriggling feebly.

"Guy, guy. Hey, guy. Come on."

She kept tapping.

Almost a split second later, the fox snapped his eyes open and let out a huge gasp. The corners of his eyes were watering, and his eyes kept darting around. He let out a choked sob as he focused on the leopard leaning over him. Seeing her, he settled down, switching his breathing from short shallow gasps to long, deep breaths.

"Marbles, are you good?"

Marbles the fox had settled down, lips trembling. With a dry, scratchy voice, he whispered,

"Water, please."

"Guys, Marbles, is up! Quick, water!"

The leopard stood and started calling the rest of the crew. One by one, Mary, Sandy, and Zipper woke up and came over to the fox. Sandy started to unwrap him from his stretcher so he could sit up. Bigelow carried with her a clear rubber vial of water. Marbles took it and downed it all in a few gulps.

"We thought you were gone, man,"

"You alright?"

"You look really sick. You gonna throw up?"

The fox was staring straight ahead. In a low voice, he mumbled,

"I saw it."

Almost instantly, Binch spoke over the radio. His question was measured and serious,

"What did you see?"

The fox began to shake, with his teeth chattering. The faces around him were apprehensive, with several people biting their lips and grinding their teeth. The fox took a deep breath, and then began:

"I was standing on the edge of a cliff,"

He focused on the vial that he held in one hand.

"It was dark like in a cave, but I felt hot, like a fire was lit underneath me,"

He swallowed, but his teeth kept chattering.

"There was red light _everywhere_."

He froze, staring at the cylindrical, clear vial.

"Keep going."

Snapping out of it, he continued,

"When I looked up, I saw only the dark, but the chasm in front of me was glowing red,"

His eyes grew wide, and he grew breathless,

"There, _I-saw-it_."

The last three syllables were spoken as thought they were a single word. He kept going, quickly,

"I saw a pillar, clear as crystal. It was covered in red, bloody, spider webs. Crammed inside, shredded, and packed into it,"

He made a pitiful sound,

"I saw _people_."


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes_

 _Not much to say for now. Again, I'd like to thank everyone who read this story. Y'all are awesome. Sorry for how short this one is, but I hope I can make up with what I reveal at the end. Only you can decide if it's good enough, though._

* * *

"Cluster- _fuck_ ," the words were spat out into the open air, with the wolf who spoke folding her arms and staring at the floor in a bewildered state.

Bigelow looked at Sandy, taking in a sharp breath and exhaling sharply through her teeth before speaking, "Yeah, no kidding."

It was half sarcasm, half shock.

Zipper, picking up his tin can, tried to spit into it and hit the rim of his suit instead. With a groan, he used one metal finger to scoop up the slime and scrape it onto the can before he spoke again, with his fingers screeching along the can's sides as he talked,

"We can't treat this crap like _rumors_ anymore."

He spoke in a low, growling rumble, with his eyes glued to the can's sides as though he could see right through them.

"Magic or no, I saw this shit. Saw it tear up Welsh, Gary-"

Closing the can's top and crushing it with his metal fist, he finished,

"-and _everyone_ near them. I'm gonna buy what Marbles said, even if it's nuts."

He let it drop with a _clunk_ as everyone watched.

"I'm not gonna be unprepared when a critter the size of a building tries to chew up the whole shuttle because I don't believe in aliens or some shit."

He leaned forward, growling, with his teeth shining dimly in the dark, "I want _payback_."

"Screw that," Sandy snapped, with the opossum's ears perking up at the sound of her voice.

"I wanna _live._ I wanna find a beach full of strippers and die _there-_ "

"You're a goddamned coward-" Zipper was leaning forward with an angry glare.

"But I'm a _living_ one-" Sandy pointed at her chest, raising her hackles.

Throughout the whole argument Binch was searching the inside of his mouth with his tongue, narrowing his eyes as he kept staring at the screen beside him, the one that once held Magnus' face.

Marbles, who sat quietly in the corner of the shuttle, finally spoke with widened, saucer-like eyes, "It's close."

At that exact moment, the feed flickered, and a small, monotonous beeping could be heard throughout the cockpit.

The whole room froze. Bigelow leaned forward at the fox, but before she spoke, Neil's voice cut through, "It's _back_!"

On Neil's monitor, the feed for the foreman's ship had reappeared, but showed nothing save for an empty chair and the occasional flashing light.

With one hand twisting a dial and with his eyes on another screen, the green-wireframe display began to scroll upwards, away from the ground. Soon, a small figure on the cockpit's display appeared: the familiar long cylindrical wedge covered in spheres, cruising through the sky, but no response came.

The clamor in the shuttle's rear had begun to subside, but a few voices remained raised,

"Where? How far-"

"Hot damn! Reinforcements!"

"Is anyone actually talking? Binch, who-"

Neil snapped back, "They're not talking."

Silence. Mary the opossum raised her voice, quavering, "Where's it going?"

"Its the foreman's ship. It's headed—for us," he paused, narrowing his eyes, "but it's—it's not slowing down."

* * *

Far overhead, the great rusted starship was making steady headway, nose pitched directly at the moon temple, but with no acceleration. Her engines were cold, and she was turning steadily. She made no sound through her lonely trip to the moon's surface.

Far below, on the dirty, dusty brown crust of the planet, a single shuttle lay crouched. As the craft came closer, the rear door of the shuttle opened, with a few figures running out and waving their arms. One carried a weapon and began firing it into the sky.

The great ship came closer.

* * *

From the ground, the great starship's silhouette grew steadily larger. It approached with its nose almost perfectly pointed at the temple roof. As it made a beeline towards the structure it gently rotated, almost lazily, as though oblivious of the moon in its path.

" _What the hell!?_ "

"Wait! WAIT! WAAAAAAAIT!"

"Foreman, respond. You're on a collision course. Foreman, come in. You are _on a collision course_ -"

Noise rang out over every helmet radio. The whole group had already reattached and sealed their helmets, and began shouting at the craft. Zipper fired at the sky. Mary yelled. Sandy made profane gestures. Marbles barked. Bigelow only stared.

In his cockpit Neil was repeating his hails until, for only a second, the feed flickered again. It was replaced by a single dark image, as though recorded from an unlit room.

One face appeared, with chalk-white skin tinted green by the light. It had no fur, but wore a single, well-pressed suit.

On seeing the figure, Neil's jaw dropped, leaving him speechless.

The face's narrow muzzle gave a small frown; the milky eyes giving a pitying glance at Neil through the screen. It was almost apologetic.

Then, a single half smile played across the cat's face, before a hand came up to adjust the lapels of the suit.

With a crackle, the feed died.

Moments passed. Neil's face didn't move for a few seconds. Then a wave of realization slowly washed over his features, with his brow contorting and his mouth twisting into a snarl, he roared,

"SHUTTLE! _NOW!_ "

Neil had his teeth bared, with his brow creased in fury. Sandy raised her voice,

"Neil, what the hell-"

" _NOW!_ "

The shuttle engines began to disturb the dust on the ground. Seeing the motion, Sandy scrambled towards the shuttle. The rest of the group followed, with Mary and Marbles taking long strides while the power armored guards raced at a thundering pace.

Neil kept yelling, "BUCKLE IN! _I AM NOT LOSING THAT SHIP!_ "

The whole group was in a mad scramble. Those in heavy armor found railings on the wall, while everyone else made a frantic dash for the seats. Harnesses were pressed in as Bigelow started to yell back,

"Neil! What are you doing!?"

The bobcat spoke quickly, without a breath or pause, "I'm gonna couple the shuttle to the foreman's ship—I'll use the shuttle engines to push it off course. We need it! _Or we're stuck here!_ "

"Holy _hell_ ," Sandy was talking in a low voice. Zipper had his helmet sealed, and wore a snarl. The shuttle door had only started to close before the shuttle lifted off.

The crew secured themselves by the time Neil finished closing the shuttle door, but not before a new light appeared on the horizon.

With a flash, Neil's monitors turned blindingly bright for a split-second, with Neil lifting his hand to cover his eyes. When the light died down, a single bright image appeared on the monitor that once showed the moon's surface.

Above the structure, a bright wisp of color appeared. Like a lightning bolt crackling in slow motion. Kilometers tall, it flickered, twitching with a greenish hue. Neil watched with his eyes wide as the foreman's ship approached the building. He tabbed his radio on again, speaking with a shocked tone,

"Something. _Happened_."

"What? What, did it crash?"

"No, no, there's a new thing. A beam of green light-"

As Neil spoke, the beam began to lean, tilting towards the great starship.

"Oh _no_."

The beam moved until it collided with the tip of the foreman's ship. There was a green flash, with a shower of sparks and a ripple in the sky, and the ship disappeared. The beam of light began to move again.

"What? What happened?" Bigelow was speaking over the shuttle's engine roar.

"It's coming _here_ ," Neil was speaking in a bewildered whisper. The rear cabin responded with rancor.

" _Huh?_ "

"What's coming here?"

"Hey! Binch! _What are you doing?!_ "

"Is anyone even listening to me?!"

"Everybody calm down! We can't-"

One last bright green flash. Like a firework exploding in your face. Crackling sparks at the edge of your vision. Then nothing.

* * *

In a dark room, a suited cat leaned back in his grey, metal desk. The only other immediate source of light was a small monitor perched on the desk's surface, illuminating the figure with flickering green light, and silhouetting his shape against the inky blackness around him.

With a slow, deliberate movement the cat stood. He adjusted his tie, straightened his collar, and began to walk. Reaching for what looked like nothing, he grasped at thin air, but the thin air responded with noise. A metal groan, like the grinding of wheels and the _clacking_ of metal shutters combined, resounded through the darkness around him.

A new light appeared. A single bright beam shaped like a column was revealed in the distance. From afar it looked like a thin glowing thread, surrounded by perfect nothingness.

The cat reached down, and picked up a briefcase. With a nearly expressionless face, he began to walk forward with long deliberating steps. As he moved, his arms swung stiffly by his sides, almost perfectly limp.

As the cat approached the beam, the column of dim light seemed wider. It changed from looking like a thin thread to giving the appearance of a broad column. As the cat stepped closer, more features began to emerge.

In the column, in the distance, there appeared to be what looked like a small dust mote. It hovered above the ground, casting the thinnest of shadows. As the cat stepped ever closer, though, more and more became clear.

The dust mote grew larger as the cat drew closer, adding details as the distance shrank. The silhouette grew finer features. Wisps sprouted into limbs. Rough edges budded into fingers and ears, joined finally by fur and ragged clothes. The thin shadow formed a clear figure beneath.

The cat now stood slightly beneath the beam of light. He looked up at the figure hovering in midair, almost motionless, with its fur and clothes giving the slightest stirring as it gently turned.

Russet fur, a burnt flight jacket, broken sunglasses, and a long bushy tail.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes_

 _I kept hearing that the last chapter was hard to understand. This next one should be clearer. Again, if y'all see anything that is too difficult to read or poorly written, please let me know._

 _UPDATE: Now rewritten, to include better details on where they land._

* * *

At this moment, another thunderclap sounded. A green flash blinked for a split second in the dark. Out of the flash came a great rusted starship in the shape of a column with a chiseled nose. Small lights on its sides winked as the only lights in the dark sky. Far beneath the ship, there was another light. A sinister crimson color tinged the floor below: lights that could only be described as dim tongues of flame lapping upwards at the starless sky with pointed, bloody tips.

Nearby, above the pulsing red glow, there was a single pillar of glowing light. It was broad and tall, with its height reaching seemingly endlessly into the black sky. Whatever light it gave did not reach far from its sides.

Circling this pillar in a steady motion were a number of broken shapes too many to count. Long metal columns sheared in half; brittle spheres, cracked and shattered; thin wiry skeletons wrought into unnatural angles and forms. Great saucers, small triangles, some with open tops and compartments. All of them shared the space around the column of light, with the spaces between them interwoven with a veil of swirling, glinting dust. As the ship flew forward, it began to yaw. Twisting in midair, it began to fall towards the column. With a thundering crash and a wailing shriek of tortured metal, it joined the sea of husks.

At the base of the pillar of light was another column, separated from the mass of broken shapes above it. Tall, clear, and spider-webbed with a thin layer of red rivulets, stood a great glassy column. With its base planted in the pitch-colored floor, it stood with small flashes forming at its base. Tiny slivers of light occasionally broke its bottom edge, making little glints in the dark, as though the light beneath the column was trying to escape.

Next to the column base, there was a single massive structure. A half-saucer built into the great column's side, the same way a fungal cap would grow on a tree trunk. Little tendrils of red and clear crystal grew into roots onto the structure, anchoring it in place. On the outermost fringe of the half-saucer were small twinkling lights blinking on the edge, where it seemed part of the structure had been cut away to form a broad, flat surface.

This surface was perpendicular to the structure itself. It looked as though someone had sheared off the edge of the half-saucer to create a runway on the part furthest from the column. On this runway, perpendicular to the rest of the saucer, was a single small starship with white and faded blue coloring; flecked and pockmarked with dents and scratches, all covered in a fine layer of ash. Beside the starship was a building. It looked like a great, concrete box protruding from the runway, with faint lights outlining a great metal door embedded in the building itself. It stood towering over the smaller starship, with its lights giving a dull glow to the ash-enshrouded craft.

Another green flash appeared in the void, this time smaller. A small craft flew out it, spinning. After some short moments the ship began to turn, with shuddering shakes, until its engines faced the pillar of light and it held still.

Some hours passed, and the small craft began to descend steadily, sometimes lurching, sometimes turning, towards the runway on the edge of the saucer. As it made its steady fall, it approached the saucer's side with a single great spotlight beaming in the darkness before touching down lightly on the flattened edge. Seen from a distance, it looked much like a gnat landing on the edge of a massive plate, where a spot had been chipped away. The ash on the surface swirled, forming tiny dust devils before settling down again. The spotlight turned, resting on the only other landed craft. Turning again, it illuminated a the nearby building, and stayed still. For a while, nothing else happened.

Hours passed before, finally, the rear door of the craft opened. Inside, a figure slowly, cautiously began stepping out.

* * *

" _Ho-ly-shit_ ," The statement reverberated out into the darkness. One figure, lightly armored, put up a hand to its helmet.

"Hey, Bigelow, this place's got air," another figure in a great suit of armor spoke, "says' its safe to breathe in."

"Don't, Zipper," another voice spoke, softly, this time from another suit of heavy armor. One with painted blue wings.

"That's a stupid idea. We don't know where we are, and it'd be a nightmare if someone caught something from _here_."

Spotlights glared from the shoulders of the two great figures. Each carried a great rifle, and began slowly exploring the surface. Three more figures appeared, all of them wearing light armor. One had a checkered yellow-and-white suit, another one wore a dull olive drab one, and the third wore one in dirty gray. Together, there were six figures in total. The one in gray had its helmet visor fixated on the attached structure, and did not move from the shuttle ramp. Its hand was clamped down on a handle inside the shuttle. It spoke, stuttering, and ending with almost a whimper,

"I-I. I-I'm n-n-no. n. no. not get. t-t. t. ting _off_."

The figure in olive drab turned around, joined by the one who spoke first.

"Hey, Marbles, relax. You don't need to get off. Mary, Binch here and I are gonna stay put with you. You're gonna be okay."

"N. N. N-n-n. _No_ ," the response was a series of struggled vowels, with each one taking almost a full second to leave Marbles' mouth. Marbles still clung to the wall, visibly shaking.

"It's _okay_ ," the speaker said, "I'm _here_. Look at me…Look."

She picked up Marbles' hand, and led him back into the shuttle, with her visor looking straight into his, "No one is taking you off. Okay?"

Marbles fell silent, but kept shivering. The one in the checkered suit kept looking at the glass column. The one in the blue-winged suit began to speak, "All right, so to repeat: the plan is to find out where the hell we _are_ ,"

The great figure began to survey the pillar of light and the swirling mass above. She continued, "So Sandy, Mary, and Marbles are all gonna stay with the shuttle. Marbles is not getting left alone, Mary's in no shape to go anywhere, and Sandy needs to watch them. _So_ ,"

She turned to the two remaining suits, one small and green, and the other large, "Binch, you're coming with us. We need someone in a small suit to check out the tighter spots that we see."

Sandy asked, "What if we need to fly?"

The green suit's response was deadpan as it spoke, with the bobcat lowering his eyelids in response, "To _where_?"

Sandy paused, looked around, frowned and sighed, "Bad point."

The bobcat in the green suit stepped back inside, and returned carrying a small rifle. Bigelow turned her covered helmet towards the group, tilted forward in a full-body nod, and then began leading the small squad away from the shuttle before speaking again,

"All right, just remember to keep in contact. Anything goes wrong, call."

"Got it."

"Wait."

Everyone turned to the opossum, who was in her checkered yellow suit.

"You're gonna need someone who can open the big door there," she pointed at the building that held the great metal door, which stood beside the small white-and-blue starship.

Bigelow paused a few moments before she asked, slowly, "You in good enough shape? You got shaken pretty bad."

"I _am_ shaken," she looked up at the pillar, visibly shuddering, and continued, "but you need someone to get you in. I can do that."

"You sure?"

A brief pause. Then, clenching her fists and narrowing her eyes, she responded, "Yeah. Yeah, I can do this."

The rest of the team said nothing for a second. She hastily added, "If I can't handle it, you can just send me back."

"But then we'll need to send someone back with you," Bigelow spoke slowly,

"Then I'll make sure it won't happen."

Bigelow gave her a hard stare through her helmet. Mary stared back. Sighing, Bigelow spoke, "Alright, so we _do_ need someone to open that door. And there's probably more of them behind it," she relaxed a little, "so, I guess this'll work."

"Right. I won't let y'all down," her voice shook, cracking at the end of the sentence. Zipper winced on hearing it. Binch's frown deepened, with his brow creased in worry. After Mary came back out of the shuttle with a toolbox, the squad came together, and then began to walk. As they left, Sandy closed the shuttle door.

As the squad walked together in the near-perfect dark, with only the structure's dim lights and the spotlights on their suits guiding them, they moved across the runway towards the spot near the craft, near the building's base. Spotlight beams sometimes lit the features of the group as they walked. Bigelow's rifle had its own sloppy white decal, spelling out the phrase _Tooth Fairy_ on its side. Binch's olive-drab suit had the phrase _RIP_ scrawled onto the helmet's back. Zipper's armor, pockmarked with holes and scorch marks, sported a dark red paint job with green flames. As they took slow steps towards the ashy starship, the bobcat quickly let out a gasp before he ran forward at full tilt.

"Binch, _wait_ ,"

The bobcat ignored her. He stopped only when he reached the craft, and then began to climb it. He spoke with a quiet voice, "This. _This_ ,"

His voice was breathless, Bigelow then asked, " _This_? This is, what?"

The bobcat turned back, and in a hushed tone, he spoke, "This is _it_."

Zipper was scanning the ship with his view. Inside his helmet, he had a small pipe leading into his mouth. Pulling his lips away from it, he exhaled a small plume of vapor into the space around his head. He took another deep breath, eyes narrowed at the craft.

Bigelow spoke with exasperation, "Yeah, what is it?"

"It's _him_."

"Huh?"

"The Ace of Aces," the bobcat continued, with the smallest sense of awe creeping into his voice.

Zipper rumbled, " _King_ James."

Binch turned to face Zipper. His features grew tense behind his helmet visor.

Turning to see Binch's face, creased with apprehension, Zipper sighed, "Relax, Binch, I didn't hate the guy,"

The bobcat visibly relaxed. Behind her helmet, Bigelow furrowed her brow and slowly repeated the name. Zipper continued, "I didn't have any friends he shot down. I know his name. Good pilot. Tough fighter,"

He turned back to the craft, "Damn tough."

"So what, was he your hero, Binch?"

Sandy's voice piped up over the radio. Binch spoke, with some of the shock wearing off of his voice, "In a way, yeah. He was everybody's,"

Bigelow spoke up again, "Wait, he's that fox pilot guy. The Star Fox."

"His team name, not his name," Binch talked.

"Gotta be dead by now, look," Zipper leaned towards the craft, tracing the cockpit's edge, "See? Cracked."

"Can we open it?"

"Don't bother. Look at the other side," Bigelow walked to the other side and pointed out a massive, neatly-cut hole in the opaque cockpit surface.

The cockpit was pitch black, and perfectly opaque. Rather than made of glass, it was solid metal, painted black. In it was a neatly carved square hole, exposing the insides. Inside, there were missing panels, frayed wires, and a torn-apart leather seat.

"Huh, no body." Zipper growled, leaning in to see. "Guess we can't prove he's dead."

" _Realistically_ , though…" Sandy spoke up again.

"Realistically, we're _already_ dead, too," Bigelow continued, "so I'm gonna keep talking _optimistically_ and hope that gets me a different result than it got for mister Star Fox."

"Team name," Binch corrected again,

Bigelow turned to Binch, who was wearing the slightest smile. Bigelow rolled her eyes in response, and kept going, "so for the sake of mister fox, we're gonna find a way out of here. I may have not actually fought in the war, but I _have_ fought in ugly spots before."

"As ugly as this?" Mary's voice raised once over the radio.

"No, but," Bigelow narrowed her eyes, looking at the pillar, "I'm not giving up. I want to get everyone here, outta here."

Zipper whistled, "Damn right but uh, how?"

"We look around. Find an exit. _Anything_ , "she kept going, "this place is a building, it's got lights and machines like any other thing people built. If people worked here, then they needed to get supplies so they could stay here."

She looked up, "If they needed supplies, they must've gotten them from somewhere that _isn't_ here. That cloud of ships up there's too unstable to get supplies from," she looked around at the near-perfect darkness around her, with her spotlight tracing her view, "and I can't see shit anywhere near here, _so,_ "

She looked at the saucer's edge, "whoever brought the supplies to build a workable base here, needed to get them from somewhere that isn't _here_ , using a way to get to and from there quickly."

"What, like a wormhole?" Sandy talked.

"I was gonna say portal, but yeah. Binch, you said that the shuttle LADAR couldn't spot anything nearby?"

The bobcat spoke again, "Yeah, LADAR said there was nothing but this column, the floor, and the crap in orbit around the column's axis. It's like even though there's a floor, the only gravity is towards the axis of the pillar-thing. It's creepy."

"One way in then," Bigelow turned her spotlight to the building that held the massive metal door, "Let's go."

"Good luck out there," Sandy called.

"Same to you," Binch replied.

The squad slowly approached the door. It was large, metallic, and flecked with small dents. A small unlit keypad was built into the wall beside it.

"Hold on, lemme get it."

Mary jogged up, and began examining the keypad, "Huh, ugly as hell. Busted, too." She pointed at the visible cracks on the surface of the keypad.

"So it's old?" Zipper lumbered towards the door.

"Yeah, but I can do this," she put down her toolbox and pulled out her chisel again. Working it into the edge of the panel, she popped it off and began rooting around the wires inside.

Minutes passed before Bigelow spoke again, "You got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Mary spoke firmly, but quietly.

More minutes passed, until finally, with the rumbling groan of screeching metal grinding against stone, the great hangar door began to open. Bigelow stepped forward, motioned for Zipper to follow her, and then pointed her spotlight into the room. The moment that Bigelow stepped in, a harsh buzzing sounded.

Flinching, and reflexively looking upwards, Zipper snapped his spotlight to the source of the noise. Long, fluorescent light bulbs stretched across the ceiling, flickering a few times before they lit up. As they lit, the buzz became less harsh, and receded into a low electric hum.

Zipper let out his breath, shuddering.

"Zip, you alright?" Bigelow asked, looking at him as his spotlight twitchily searched the ceiling.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. I'm-…good," Zipper answered fast, with his breath leaving his mouth just as quickly.

Bigelow stopped, narrowed her eyes, and then kept moving forward with her vision scanning the room. As the two crept forward, Mary and Neil followed behind. Before the group was a single broad, almost empty, space. The walls, lined with I-beams and thick woolly insulation, left little else to look at.

In the corner of the room stood a great square shaft that sunk into the concrete floor, surrounded by a metal frame and a single lever. Looking around the dimly-lit room, the four warily stared at each corner, shadow, and shape that appeared as their spotlights passed over the room's features.

"Elevator. Big one, over there," Mary spoke up, pointing at the shaft.

"Yeah, I see it," Bigelow's voice remained steady, even though she was looking around the room with still-narrowed eyes.

Approaching the lever, the group stopped.

"You _really_ think we should call it up?" Zipper asked, opening the outer cover of his helmet, and peering through the second, transparent dome. He leaned over the shaft's edge, letting his spotlight peer into the hole below.

"Can't think of another way in," she said, looking around, "so, yeah, pretty much."

Binch muttered, as he stared down the shaft, "well, it looks like a big elevator, so we shouldn't have to worry about splitting up any more,"

Bigelow looked at the rest of the group as she stood by the lever. Mary looked warily at the lever, then turned away to look at the ceiling. Neil gave a small, grim nod. Zipper rumbled, "Do it."

As he spoke, Bigelow grasped the lever, and with the creaking of metal, pulled it back with a _chunk_. There were a few moments of deafening, tense silence. From deep within the shaft, the _hiss_ of hydraulics, the grinding of gears, and the harsh, tinny sound of metal coils being unfurled sounded.

As the crew looked down into the shaft, a faint shape emerged, lit by their spotlights. As the shape grew larger and came closer, Neil opened his eyes wide, brought up his rifle, and cursed, "Oh, _shit._ "

Zipper snapped up his own weapon, with his sights trained on several figures in a cluster on the platform. He turned, looking at Bigelow, and barked, loud enough to make Mary flinch and duck,

"BIGS!"

He was looking at her, wild eyed, with one finger steadily squeezing the trigger as he aimed at the figures as they came closer. His eyes pleaded with her as they kept darting to look at the steadily approaching elevator.

Neil was also looking down, with his rifle trained steadily at the figure closest to the edge. None of the figures moved.

Bigelow was frozen in place for no more than a moment before she brought up her great machine-cannon to bear on the shadowy group that rose from the shaft. Her teeth began to chatter, but she ground down her jaw and raised one hand before yelling an order,

"STOP, WAIT, HOLD FIRE!"

Zipper then kept his eyes glued to the incoming elevator. Every person tensed, waiting as the machine finally ground to a halt at the top of the shaft, where they stood.

In front of them stood a dozen sets of powered armor, all facing them, unmoving.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Notes_

 _I love foreshadowing._

* * *

No one moved. Zipper had a death grip on his machine-cannon. Mary had ducked down and was hiding behind Zipper. Neil was frozen in place, with his weapon trained on the lead figure of the group on the elevator. The radio crackled, with Sandy shouting through the feed with a tinny voice,

"What's happening? Come on, talk! Hello?"

Sandy raised her voice, but was ignored. No one else spoke. Spotlights wavered on the cluster of power-armored silhouettes, with sharp shadows being cast by the lead figures onto the suits behind. As the lights swayed, the shadows flickered. Bigelow, however, had begun to narrow her eyes. After a few seconds of holding her breath, she took a step forward. Zipper took a sharp breath inwards and barked. Bigelow responded with a raised hand wave that stopped him cold. With her weapon still aimed at the group in the elevator, she kept walking forward. The radio fell silent for a few moments as she kept walking towards the group.

In the group before her, there were twelve suits of heavy combat armor, all holding rifles similar to the ones Bigelow held, but none of them were raised. They all were stock-still, facing forward in a rough formation, assembled at the center of a very broad, square elevator that had approached from a shaft in the floor. It looked more like a cage that had bars only at the edges. Neil held his breath, Mary was peering out from behind Zipper with a shocked, frightened look. Bigelow kept moving forward, slowly, step by step.

As she got closer, her group began to relax. Expressions changed from raw, primal fear, to stunned bewilderment. Neither Neil nor Zipper took their aim off the group, but they both began to lower their rifles. Zipper let out a shuddering sigh, and Mary began to step out, warily. Bigelow kept walking until she was at arms length from the lead suit. Its outer helmet cover was open, but the dome inside was too opaque to see through. The paint on every suit was faded and chipped, but all were intact, with a dull brown color-scheme painting almost every feature. On the lead suit, there were some minor markings, in white stenciled paint:

 **SAL-MUIR**

 **VENOM NAVY**

Beneath the two, separate markings were a trio of miniature silver wreaths in a neat, vertical line.

Bigelow leaned in and, while looking at the dome cover, she put up one arm and pushed on the figure. The great suit tilted backwards, slightly, but gave no other response. Pulling her arm back, the suit moved back into place with a resounding metal _clunk._

The radio sounded with a thin, tinny voice, "Jesus _Christ_ , is no one gonna give me an update?"

"Yeah, uh, hold on," Bigelow stammered for a bit, "we, uh, ran into something weird."

"...how weird?", a bit of dread creeped into Sandy's voice.

"Not sure. We found a bunch of heavy suits all on an elevator together, armed," Bigelow spoke faster, more confidently, "they aren't moving, though. I can't actually tell if the people _inside_ are moving, either."

Neil stepped forward, traced his fingers over the lead figure's markings and said one word, letting it roll off of his mouth and echo throughout the room, " _Brass_."

Zipper was looking through the rest of the group, prodding them with his machine-cannon. He deliberately looked at every set of tags and, after seeing them all, frowned a little and sighed.

Mary was cautiously stepping around the lead figure, stepping back and forth and scrutinizing every detail on the armor. Settling on a spot on the upper back, she put down her toolbox and opened it. Selecting a long, thin bar with a chiseled tip, she slid it into one of the plates on the rear, beneath a red cross symbol.

Sandy kept talking, "You all okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just spooked is all," Bigelow was watching Mary work.

"All right, all right, just don't-give me a heart attack." The voice was shaky, but loud.

"Yeah, copy that." Bigelow turned back to the opossum right as a metal _click_ sounded from the plate she worked on.

The plate fell off, revealing a series of seals, bulbs, and wires. Mary focused intently on the bulbs before making a single statement, loud enough for everyone to hear: "Its empty."

The group snapped to attention as she spoke. Noticing the rapt gazes of all her crewmates, she added, more quickly: "Nobody's in it. See?"

She pointed at one small display labeled "Weight diff: NON"

"They could be dead," Neil spoke up.

"No, the suits are empty," she insisted, "even if they died, the suits are _sealed_. The mass inside the suits can't be lost, at least not in any _real_ amount."

After some silence, Zipper asked, "Well, now what?"

"We hitch a ride with the corpses," Neil spoke, as he stepped onto the elevator floor, "can't see any other way in," he looked around, "so, I guess its the elevator, going down."

"You're so _cheerful,_ " Sandy remarked over the feed.

"Yeah, it really does look like the only way down," Bigelow's gaze traced the edges of the elevator cage, before groaning a little, "so, _hop to it_."

The group entered the cage, clustering together at one end. Looking down at the floor of the elevator, it was a tight mesh of metal strips with tiny gaps. Beyond the gaps was only the dark. Looking up from this, Bigelow called to Sandy,

"Yeah, I'm not sure if we're gonna have radio contact the whole time. If we break up, try not to panic."

"Uh huh," the response was acerbic, "If I don't hear back from y'all, then, I'm screwed, right?"

"If we lose contact for more than six hours, we'll turn back," Bigelow spoke as she approached a metal panel on the railing of the elevator, "sound good?"

"No."

Bigelow grimaced, "Best I can do, though."

A sigh over the radio, "fine, just don't die."

"We'll do our best," Neil replied quietly.

"All right, then. Going down."

She hit a green button, and then, after a minor shake, the elevator began sinking into the ground, lowered by its metal cables. Deep, shuddering, metal groans resounded through the room as the elevator moved. As it lowered into the dark, the group disappeared from view.

* * *

Deeper below, in the bowels of the great structure, there was another room. Dimly lit with nothing but the thin green glow of floor lights that stretched its length, the room was filled with massive, silvery holding tanks. Great, ribbed pipes sprawled between them, crisscrossing with wires and upturned panels. In the wall was a single set of metal double-doors, sealed shut. A thick, brown paste pooled beneath the holding tanks, forming smears, puddles, and rivulets that all leaked into the holes left by the upturned panels.

One of the pipes, a lengthy, wide one that had broken from a nearby tank to form a stretched funnel-shaped opening, began to shudder. Out of its mouth, something crawled. A thick, shuddering, slimy, shape slowly dragged itself out of the end. Shapeless, rippling, and writhing, the ugly form began to sink its ugly body into a flatter shape, forming lumps in spots where it couldn't flatten itself out. On the surface of the thing were scattered, sharper shapes that sometimes rose, then receded again into the heaving mass.

At the edge of the thing, a balloon formed, filling itself up until it grew into the space next to the creature, filling itself until the entire body had gurgled, like mucous, into the new space. Repeating this cycle, the mass traveled across the broken pipes with loud sloshing and squelching. At one point, one of the harder shapes in the mass stuck out, like a tent pole, pressed against the surface of the skin until it was translucent. Illuminated dimly by the light, there was a dark shape inside: the rough, sharp, ragged edge of bone, spurred with cartilage and a small bit of fur. The bone sank again, disappearing back into the soupy mass as it found an opening in the floor. Slurping into the open hole in the ground, the thing moved slowly, quivering, and fell once more, out of sight. A loud splash echoed into the now empty room, followed only by the the low hum of the lights.

For a while, there was no other noise. Then, from a distance, there was a thunderous sound: a single, air-rending, metallic screech, the noise of metal breaking under huge strain with a _bang_ , shuddering the walls with its echoes. Following, there was a soft mutter, then a curse, and another mutter.

The seam between the two metal doors then flashed, with a single, blinding light piercing at the top. After some seconds, the light disappeared, only to reappear near the bottom, melting the edges into glowing, white-hot blooms of metal. After the light receded, the edges receded to form a bright orange, then red as a loud grunt resounded from behind the doors.

The two doors began to shudder, peeling away from each other as a spotlight formed through the crack. The metal groaned as the crack grew wider, and wider, and a single large red shoulder-plate broke through between them. As the plate shouldered through, more red followed, with the doors peeling under the steady assault until finally, with a _crash_ , one door broke off, landing with a _clang_ on the floor.

A great metal suit with blue wings on the shoulders took a great stride over the door, scanning the room with a long, heavy gun. After some silence, the sealed metal fishbowl helmet swiveled in place, with the gun tracing its vision once more.

A muffled noise came from behind the helmet: "Clear."

After the heavy suit lumbered through there came a much smaller, olive-drab suit, toting its own weapon. Following that one was a checkered yellow and white suit. In the rear, following them all was a great red armored suit, as large as the first.

Some heavy breathing came from the red giant: "Can...you...hear us- _now_?"

They were words spoken into the open air, in response was only a faint static.

"No good, Zipper. Its been hours. Relax." The olive drab suit turned around, speaking.

"I know, I know, Neil, just-... _damn_ ," Zipper leaned back into the wall, panting, "this is fixin' up to be the worst day of my life."

"Hey, _join the club_ ," the great armored figure that entered first spoke up, opening the outer cover of her helmet, revealing the face of a snow leopard.

Neil began walking along the edge of the hall, stepping over holes, pipes, sliding past great holding tanks. The yellow-and-black suit had found a desk with a small computer on it. Looking around it, she stuck some fingers into the rear panel, where it came slightly ajar. Popping off the panel with her tool, she stuck a yellow hand into the hole and began rooting around. As she worked, she spoke up,

"We got lucky that that last beam wasn't a critical support. Must've only held _pipes_ or something. _Ah_!"

Pulling out her hand, she had a small card with a key chain attached. Bigelow stepped forward, looking at it, with the spotlight beaming over into the opossum's eyes. The opossum flinched, pulling up one arm to cover her visor.

Bigelow, eyebrows raised, hissed, "Shoot, my bad," and tilted her head to the side, clicking a tab on the side of her fishbowl-helmet wall.

The spotlight _clacked_ off, and the opossum put down her arm, blinking furiously. She looked back at the card she held, squinting. Bigelow studied the card intently, then spoke,

"Yeah, that's a security card. Gotta be," she leaned a little closer, staring at the photo on it, "huh, he's cute."

Flipping the card over, the opossum squinted a little more before remarking, "yeah, nah, cats aren't my type. Cute glasses though."

Neil strode over, taking great steps over the pipes, to see. Looking at the card, he narrowed his eyes, then grunted, "Mm, five outta ten."

Bigelow raised her eyebrows, staring at him.

Looking back at her, Neil kept a deadpan face with hooded eyes: "What? Fair assessment. For what it matters, I like ladies, too."

Zipper snorted. A small, one-note laugh came from Mary before she bit her lip. Bigelow lowered her eyebrows and curled one end of her lip slightly upwards, "Smart ass."

"Oh, I have that, also."

Bigelow squinted hard at him before shaking her head and taking the card. Zipper made some smooching noises as Mary smiled faintly.

"Hey, c'mon, we all gotta laugh a bit, or we'll all go insane before we even get a chance to leave here," Neil took a more somber tone, but kept smiling, "maybe then my dating options won't be just be, y'know, three people and my gun."

"You'd date _me_?" Zipper had a big open-mouthed smile, furrowing his brow, too.

Looking at him, Neil pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, and adjusted his belt, "Eh, well, if I were _desperately_ thirsty, I'd drink motor oil, too."

"Hah! _Hahahahahaha!_ "

Zipper had a great, booming laugh, joined by Mary's softer one, " _Hahaha-hah_! Oh, oh, God, haheh, thank God, I needed that. That was funny."

Neil stepped forward, grabbing Zipper's hand, and pulled him forward, "Hey, anytime, guy. Anytime."

Stepping forward, Zipper gave him a careful one-armed hug with a great metal limb, breathlessly sighing with a big grin, "Seriously, though, my last squad was all humorless assholes," he stepped back, tilting his head at Bigelow, "Bigs over there was the new one, but she didn't talk much. Strong, silent type."

"I can _hear_ you." Bigelow called over from one end of the room.

"Don't care," Zipper called back, "its true!"

Turning back to Neil, he added, "usually not much for conversation, but a good person. Can pop someone's head right off at a hundred meters, but a good person. Gives to charity, too."

"I can still hear you."

"And I _still don't care_ ," Zipper called back again, "also, _stop eavesdropping_."

Bigelow rolled her eyes, and kept searching the walls for another door, "horrible stuff's happened, we're not _supposed_ to laugh."

At that moment, Mary's smile vanished. She took a few dazed steps backwards and slowly sat on the desk, resting her elbows on her knees. Her gaze fell on the pipes in front of her, and her eyes got foggy. Zipper got very quiet. The whole group fell silent. Then, walking up to Mary, Neil whispered,

"Hey, c'mon, no one ever said we were gonna forget everyone."

He offered a hand, "we made it this far, so for the sake of everybody who couldn't, _we_ gotta make it out. We gotta get out and warn people about what happened. Can't do that if we're all too sad to move. Gotta stay positive."

Mary looked up, with slightly reddened eyes, and smiled a small smile. Seeing that, Neil added, "not too positive, though. Twee shit bugs me."

Another laugh from Zipper. And this time, a smile from Bigelow, too. Mary nodded, licked her lips, then got off the table as Bigelow exclaimed,

"Yo! Found another door! Panel lights up when I put the keycard near it, so I guess we can move forward," she gestured towards a flashing red light near the door.

"Right, then," Zipper stretched, then sighed "feel a bit better now."

The group jogged forward as Bigelow tried to push the door, but it would not budge. Everyone gathered around as she gave a few more hard shoves, but the door refused to move. Looking at the window in the top of the door when she straightened up, then peered into it more closely. Holding very still, she focused intently through the single thin pane of glass. Neil, noticing her expression, took a serious tone, "What? What'd you see?"

"I think," she paused. Bigelow had a confused expression, with her brow furrowed and her jaw held a little slack. It only grew more bewildered as she focused harder on the spot behind the door.

"Well, what is it?" Zipper rumbled.

"I-, gimme a sec," she turned her spotlight back on, and kept peering through.

She cursed, "Damn! That just makes it worse," she turned it off again, and kept looking through the glass slit in the door.

There was a tense silence as she kept looking. As she kept peering through the hole, her expression changed, adopting a single, mystified frown instead. At that same moment, the flashing red light near the door turned a solid, steady green, and a faint grinding _whirr_ was heard from inside the door.

Mary, asked, apprehensively, "What is it?"

Bigelow paused, stepped back, shifted her jaw and said, "I could've sworn that someone was on the other end."

Neil stepped forward, asking slowly, "What happened? What did you see?"

The others leaned in, more intently. Bigelow furrowed her brow again, and started, "There was a guy, just outside, looking at the slit,"

She stopped, looking through the thin window for only a second, before turning back, "I think," she continued,

"I think he was fixing his _tie_."

* * *

"Bigelow, come in. Bigelow, respond. Bigelow, please come in."

Sandy leaned over the cockpit chair. She wore a baggy orange jumpsuit as she firmly pressed part of the headset to her ear as she repeated the phrases. Licking dry, cracked lips, she took another breath, and kept going:

"Bigelow, respond. Bigelow, please respond."

She repeated this cycle for five minutes before she groaned, putting down the headset. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she stepped back and looked back at her watch. Growling in single syllables, she walked back to the rear cabin. Marbles, the white fox, was curled up across a single row of seats, covered by a single tarp. Beside him was an open first aid kit and a sealed, thick rubber bag marked 'HAZARD WASTE'. Some ripped, thumb-sized plastic bags littered the floor. The whole cabin was dimly lit, with nothing but the thin red glow of the emergency lights filling the air.

Surveying the scene, Sandy's frown deepened. Walking back to the cockpit, she opened a small door in the hallway leading to it, barely wide enough for her to squeeze into, and shut it behind her. There was a soft _click_ after she shut it, and the shuttle again was left in silence.

From the cockpit, a very soft noise emerged. It was the noise of a very low horn, playing off-key. Barely audible over the gentle electric hum of the shuttle lights.

A flushing sound came from behind the small hallway-door, and the sounds of scrambling joined it. With a sharp _click_ and a loud _bang_ , the door slammed open as the she-wolf was yanking up her zipper. She yelped once as it caught on something, and started swearing as she tried to unjam it, all while stumbling towards the cockpit again.

Finally pulling up the zipper, she reached quickly for the headset again, pressing it against her ear. She gritted her teeth as she held it while wiping her other hand on her jumpsuit. Her expression was apprehensive, with her eyes focused on the cockpit panel in front of her. Finally, she said one word, slowly, enunciating every syllable with pronounced uncertainty:

"Hell-o?"

She waited for some moments, then another noise sounded. It was very faint, coming from the headset.

As Sandy heard it, her expression slowly changed. Her eyes widened, and her jaw lowered slowly in shock. Her mouth moved to form a word, but a loud buzz from the headset interrupted her. Snapping out of her shock, she shook her head and began blinking quickly as the noises disappeared, replaced by a single, calm voice.

"Sandy, come in. Sandy, we got a connection. We are calling from inside the building. Sandy, respond."

Fumbling for a nearby switch, Sandy tabbed it and mumbled, struggling for a few moments to form words with her mouth,

"Yeah, yeah, ah, ahhhow, what. What. What happened?"

There was a short pause as Bigelow's voice came over the headset,

"Sandy! We're in! We got a connection and we can stay in contact. What's the matter?"

"I..." Sandy paused, took a deep breath, then continued, "ah, nothing, nothing. Just caught me by surprise is all."

"Right. Anyway. We found the command center. Lotta computers. We found an emergency generator and some spotlights. Got them set up around the room, so we got a kind of camp-"

"Uh huh," Sandy rubbed her eyes, glancing back at the monitors nearby. One flickered, showing an image.

"-so I think we can fetch you and then we can regroup here," as Bigelow spoke, Sandy looked at the image and froze.

"what do you think? Huh? Sandy?" Sandy wasn't talking. She was frozen in place as she stared at the monitor.

"Sandy, hello? Sandy, you still there?"

The image flickered, and then turned off. Sandy held almost pefectly still, stunned.

"Sandy? Sandy!"

Sandy gasped, stepped back, and collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. One hand clutched the spot over her heart. The headset landed on the floor, bouncing once as Bigelow's tinny voice raised, "Sandy! Sandy, are you okay?! SANDY!"

Sandy's breathing calmed down, and slowly, very slowly, she pulled her fingers off of her chest. Fumbling for the headset, she spoke hoarsely, with her voice cracking as she spoke,

"Bigelow... Bigs... Bigs-I,"

"Sandy! What the hell?!"

"Bigelow, you...you remember when Marbles talked about that vision? That pillar-thing?"

The radio fell silent, and then Bigelow spoke, slowly, "Yes?"

"I," Sandy paused, exhaled, and shuddered, "I just saw it."


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Notes_

 _My update schedule's been fairly sporadic, with a new chapter up every week or two. The pattern's starting to look like one 3,000-4,500 chapter every few weeks. When this work is done, I may switch to a more regular format with twice the words, but done monthly. Let me know whichever y'all prefer._

* * *

"We gotta regroup," Bigelow spoke, focusing on the screen in front of her. Sandy's tan-furred face flickered on the feed.

Bigelow stood behind Mary, who sat in front of a wide set of consoles, panels, and keyboard-encrusted surfaces. Rows upon rows of switches, dials, sliding tabs and brightly colored buttons, still covered by glass casings, covered the surface. Some had color scales that progressed from green to yellow, to orange, and red. A number of them were stuck on red.

"We're lucky we made it this far while split up. We need to find a way to bring back Sandy and Marbles to the camp without putting us all in more danger." Bigelow continued, making each point out loud as Mary fumbled with the machine.

Behind the two, Zipper was pushing a large metal box into a corner, minding the thick wires that trailed from its side. Neil opened a grate in the wall of the room, pulling out boxes and rooting through the contents. So far, he already amassed a pile of cans, sealed packages and bottles of water. The space around them was lit not by the lights built into the ceiling, but by several spotlights on metal kickstands, all connected to the box Zipper was pushing.

"Mary, what've you figured out?" Bigelow turned to the opossum, with the transparent bubble of her helmet swiveling to face her. Mary, who had only just finished looking at each monitor, winced and bit her knuckle as her other hand flitted over the buttons.

"Uh...well, _hm,_ " She did not sound confident, "I think, that, this...is a security console."

"No kidding?"

"M-Mostly, yeah."

"Can you find a map? Or an exit?" Sandy snapped, her glazed, reddened eyes staring at the opossum.

"I think, so, yeah, um...I'll-" she swallowed, "I...I may take some time though, I'll call you back when I get it."

"Right. Fine." Sandy growled, then continued, "anyway, now we _know_ somebody's following us. Business-cat-stalker guy isn't a figment of anybody's imagination. He's real, and if what Neil's told us is right, he was on the ship, and now he's here. You said you can't track him on your motion sensors, right?"

"Well, _kinda_." Zipper grimaced, knocking on the side of his helmet, "These things aren't worth crap, and they sometimes go off over nothing. We got a few _pings_ here and there, but nothing consistent. Suit guy never showed up on our motion sensor-"

"Doesn't mean anything," Bigelow interrupted, "maybe the walls were too thick to scan through. He's not a ghost, people."

Mary swallowed, but kept silent. Sandy began scratching her neck.

Bigelow went on, "Anyway, we shouldn't panic about stuff we can't control. What we need to do first is get Sandy and Marbles here. My plan is that we lock the doors to this new base of ours, then walk back to the shuttle. No splitting up anymore."

"Good plan." Zipper rumbled, standing up, "Now, let's pack up, and then get going."

After a few more preparations, the group shut off the emergency generator and gathered up again at the door, with Zipper and Bigelow leading the way out. Mary, casting one more glance back, shut the door behind her. When they left, the room was silent one more time. A single bright light flashed halfway between the door and the wall, melting the two together. Two hard knocks sounded out through the door, and then, the room was quiet.

* * *

Back at the shuttle, Sandy had marble's head in her lap as she was napping with her back against the wall. The cabin was quiet, but a small noise began to sound from the side of the shuttle. A small, weak, bumping noise. Sandy's ears perked up, and her eyes snapped open. Without moving her head, she quietly surveyed the room with her eyes and ears. Pausing, she closed them again, relaxing as she put her hand on Marbles' forehead.

 _Bung._

Her ears perked up again. This time she moved her head, too. Narrowing her eyes and looking around, she listened.

 _Bung._ _Bung. Bung._

It was a steady noise. With a pause between each shuddering sound. Each noise was followed by a trickling sound filling the gap between each hit.

Carefully putting Marbles' head on a pillow, Sandy stood up, eyes narrowed and with a scrunched brow, as she walked around the cabin. The noise continued.

 _Bung- **schlurk**. Bung- **schlurk**. Bung- **schlurk**._

Sandy froze, fur stood on end, but her posture did not change. After a few seconds, she walked towards the shuttle wall. The moment she stopped at the wall, the noise stopped. Slowly, she put her ear against the wall.

For a few heartbeats, there was silence.

Stepping back, Sandy frowned, looked around, then began to walk towards Marbles.

 _BANG!_

The cabin shook, tilting to the side, knocking down Sandy as she yelled in surprise. Marbles sprang up with a confused yelp as he collided with one of the seats. The entire floor had tilted, and was now vibrating.

Sandy looked up at the door in open-mouthed surprise, before speaking in a shocked tone: "We're moving."

Marbles looked at her, blinked, and yelled again as the cabin began to shake, violently, with the screech of metal on concrete piercing the air.

"We're **_moving_**!" Sandy sprang towards the rear door of the cabin, broke a glass cover built into the wall, and pulled a bright red lever out of the slot.

The rear door of the cabin started to open, slowly, with its hydraulics hissing and groaning in protest. Grabbing Marbles by the back of his jumpsuit, Sandy dragged him towards the back. As she got closer to the door, the floor began to rise, again, with the rear exit tilting upwards into the dark sky.

With one last burst of speed, Sandy hauled him out of the rear door, jumping out after him. Landing with a crash, she lay on the ground, gasping. Marbles, kneeling, was watching the scene in horror. The shuttle had started to tilt off of the edge of the platform before it finally disappeared. Marbles' gaze, however, fixed itself on the thing that pushed the shuttle off.

On the edge of the platform sat a massive, shifting pile of orange-and-red mass. Rolling layers of fatty, veined flesh pulsed and moved on its surface that concealed large, dark masses moving underneath the translucent, sickly orange skin. Some bones had cropped up near the top, falling out in a rattling cascade as they broke the skin as other organs pressed up against the surface. One feature, disturbingly stable, was an opening in the shape of a wide spindle. It was lined with jagged bone spurs and sharp spikes, enclosing a formless, reddened maw. It was chewing, with its lips opening between each motion. Right above it, an intact skull had pressed itself to the surface.

Marbles screamed. Sandy smacked his head and pulled him up by the scruff before running towards the building with the elevator. After some stumbling behind Sandy, Marbles broke into a sprint. The thing had begun to follow them, slowly. It was slowly squelching its body into a pool in the space beside it, with the rest of it following suit.

Sandy cast a look over her shoulder, saw the thing chasing them, and began to sprint harder to the elevator. Running past the landed Arwing, the two made it inside. The thing, still several hundred meters behind, followed slowly, lips moving in a disturbing pantomime of a real mouth. Frantically scrabbling for the panel with the call button, Sandy hastily pressed it down. A low rumble came from the elevator shaft as the sound of grinding gears and groaning metal filled the air.

"C'mon, _c'mon,_ _c'mon,_ _c'mon,_ _c'mon,_ _c'mon, COME ON!"_

Sandy hit the panel, and Marbles was looking back with a whimper. The monster crawled closer, with its features slowly becoming easier to spot as it moved in.

"DAMN IT! _MOVE!_ "

The elevator finally ground to a halt, opening its cage-gates. The squad of empty suits were still there, motionless. Grabbing Marbles one more time, Sandy pushed him in. The thing crawled into the room. Slamming the 'down' button with her fist repeatedly, Sandy looked up. The creature's teeth were close enough to count.

The elevator jerked once, then began to descend.

"Ha! HAHAHAHAHAH! _HAH_! YEAH! _YEAH!_ " Sandy was dancing, snapping her fingers as she pointed and laughed at the creature above.

The elevator descended far enough so that the shaft was only seen as a small, bright square, directly above. Marbles was looking up, with the faintest bit of relief spreading itself as a smile on his face. Sandy panted, laughing still.

The tiny square disappeared, blotted out by a larger shape.

The smile on Sandy's face disappeared, wiped away by a slow realization.

Marbles' eyes teared up as his jaw fell in an open-mouthed expression of despair.

The shape hurtled closer, careening down through the shaft.

Sandy yelled one more expletive, and then there was a resounding crash; the sounds of cables snapping, the noise of of metal shearing, bones snapping, skin tearing.

In one writhing mass, the shape and the elevator fell down, down into the dark.

One last earth-shaking _boom_ , then nothing.

* * *

"Sandy, Sandy, come in. Sandy, come in."

Bigelow was calling into her headset, repeating the phrase as she walked.

"Sandy, this is Bigelow, please respond."

She stepped over a wide pipe while ducking under a twisted metal frame, with the servos in her arms and legs groaning in protest as she carefully moved her great metal frame through. As she stepped through, she stood behind Neil, Mary, and Zipper, who led the way. Spotlights shone in the pitch-black dark, illuminating rows of tables with unfinished plates of dried-up food. Long-dried stains peppered the tiled floor along with shattered glass, rocks, and the occasional fallen light fixture.

"She hasn't responded yet?" Mary turned her head back, looking anxiously at Bigelow.

"...No. This is bad." Bigelow wore a grim look, with her amber eyes piercing the dark through her helmet-dome. On their own, they could've been spotlights.

Zipper turned around, biting his lip. Neil stopped and looked intently at Bigelow through his visor.

"We need to hurry and get out. The longer we're split, the bigger the odds something bad happens."

 ** _BOOM!_**

A thunderous noise, like the sound of a building crashing down, tore through the room. The floor shook. Mary tripped, catching the edge of a table on the way down. Neil spread his legs, trying hard to stand straight. The two in powered armor shook, but took no steps. Right as the noise hit, a blast of air punched through the room from the nearby hallway. As the great sound faded, the wind died down, forming little dusty eddies on the floor.

After they regained their balance, the group stood, unmoving. Zipper spoke, half-stating, half-asking,

"...What the hell was that?"

Barely a second passed before Bigelow's external helmet cover closed and she began to move towards the hallway. Motioning with one great metal hand for Zipper to do the same, she continued forward, with her great assault gun pointed at the door. Zipper, closing his outer cover, followed. Neil walked with Mary, with his own weapon trained on the door. Mary, visibly shaking, was taking halting steps towards the hall.

With her spotlight sweeping the hallway in an arc, Bigelow moved forwards. At the end of the hall, in the shape of a dim rectangle, a door teetered on its side, attached to the wall by its frame. Behind the door, the elevator shaft let out its dust in a smooth, continuous exhale.

"Shit. _Shit._ " Bigelow swore as she began to jog, stopping only when she had a foot on the door and her head in the shaft of the elevator.

Looking down, there was nothing but a dark hole. Bits of metal, rock and dust were still falling from above. Looking up, beams of metal crisscrossed the shaft, blocking it with rocks and concrete boulders filling the spots in between. Dangling bits of wire swung in twitching spasms, torn from their braces in the walls, and showering sparks down into the abyss.

"Oh. _Ohhhhh_. _Aaaghhhhh-!_ " Bigelow groaned out, opening her mouth in a snarl as she pulled her head back into the hallway. Facing the nearest bit of fallen debris, a fallen piece of metal frame, she wound up her leg and kicked it with a harsh, guttural growl. The metal snapped with a clang, sending a piece whirling off into the wall. She stood there, panting angrily.

Mary was standing back, fur on end inside her suit. Zipper jogged to the door. Neil stepped forward, cautiously,

"Bigs? Bigs, you all _rig-"_

" ** _NO!_** "

It was a roar, amplified by Neil's radio, setting his teeth on edge as the radio shrieked with feedback, sending shockwaves into his ears. Mary grabbed the sides of her helmet instinctively, and Zipper yelled out in pain as he heard the noise.

Bigelow stood there, panting angrily. Looking up at Neil, and seeing his pained expression, she relaxed a little, loosening her jaw from its snarl.

"...Neil. Neil, damn. I'm sorry...that was...that was not your fault. Not your fault."

She let out a long exhale, taking a deep breath as she stood straight. Zipper was walking back towards the group, Mary was slouched against the wall. Neil looked at Bigelow with a dazed expression.

Walking forwards with one more deep breath, Bigelow growled, "Well, plan A is screwed-"

Turning back, she kept going, "-looks like we have to use the stairs. And-!"

She clicked on her radio, "-I still can't talk to Sandy. God-damn!"

She bared her teeth as she sighed, clicked off her radio, and continued: "Mary, please tell me you still have the map."

"Uh, yeah, yeah I do." Mary's voice shook as she stood.

"We, uh, we gotta go back a block. Like, four doors." She was looking at a small projection on the inside of her helmet visor.

"Okay. Small blessings, at least." Bigelow took long steps towards Mary, "can you lead the way? I'll be at the front, but I need you to call directions."

"Sure, okay, alright."

Turning towards the other direction, Bigelow took long strides. The rest of the group followed, with Mary right behind Bigelow. As the group walked back into the mess hall, they stepped over the fallen debris and towards the doorway they exited from. One by one they disappeared into the door frame, flickering spotlights flitting into the darkness, leaving the room for the last time.

* * *

"God damn. God damn."

Zipper placed his machine-cannon against the wall and slouched down by it, cursing. The hum of the emergency generator and the faint electrical buzz of the emergency lights were the only other noises. The room was a small enclosure, with a tarp spread out on the floor, pinned down by the spotlights deployed at each edge. The walls were lined with ribbed plates, pinned to the walls by various latches. There was only one exit, a set of double-doors pinned shut by metal beams propped up against each handle.

Neil stood by the security console, looking over Mary's shoulder, jaw open and shaking his head in bewilderment. Before them, a flickering, greenish image of the nearby hallway lit up the screen. Bigelow looked on beside them, pressing her tongue against her cheek wall, as her eyes darted from feature to feature of the feed.

Clicking a key, Mary watched as the feed changed to another hallway, then to the mess hall, then to the door outside the elevator shaft. Each feed had a squarish, boxy white number with a black outline on its upper-left corner. Between some of these feeds, an occasional black screen with its own number would show up. Clicking quickly again each time, Mary sighed with frustration with every appearance of a black image.

Bigelow, inside of her helmet, was slowly mouthing the numbers of the camera feeds that were not shown. _Seven. Twelve. Forty-four._ _Ninety-two_. _Seven._ She narrowed her amber eyes every time the numbers made a big jump, blinking as the numbers changed.

... _Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Forty-four(?), Forty-five, Forty-six, Forty-seven, Ninety-two (?), Ninety-nine..._

The cycle repeated itself as the group studied the feeds. Sometimes someone would jump on seeing a shadow move, only to relax when it was a plastic bag drifting through the hall. Zipper began to snore softly as he lay back against the wall.

After some time, Mary sat back and sighed, pointing an open hand at the screen, "I give up, I don't know how to find any other feeds."

"Can we rewind the ones we have?" Neil asked.

"No. Every time I pulled up the storage, it says that the data's corrupted. Look."

Mary pulled up closer to the console, and typed in some commands. The moment she confirmed them, the machine's display flickered for a few seconds before throwing up a splash of asterisks, slashes, periods, colons, number signs, and digits all across the screen, complete with a overlay text and a skull and crossbones:

* * *

**CORRUPTED ACCESS**

**CORRUPTED ACCESS**

**CORRUPTED ACCESS**

* * *

"Shit." Neil began rapping his knuckles against his helmet, "No good. No contact with Sandy, either?"

"Nothing. I tried, but I can't reach her." Mary said. Bigelow never took her eyes off the screen.

"I think," Bigelow sighed, "We need to get some rest. We can lock the doors, and try calling again tomorrow."

"That's...a decent plan." Neil yawned as he spoke. "We need to keep our wits about us. We can figure out why the elevator crashed later. Can't do that when we're too tired to move. That, and," He paused, looking down. "I just hope they're alright."

His statement was met with a brief silence, with Mary biting her lip. Bigelow spoke, slowly, "I hope so too."

Standing up straighter, she continued with a more determined look. "Well. I'm first watch." She was still looking at the screen.

Neil made a sideways glace at her, which she met through her dome cover with a serious, 'not-negotiating-this' expression. After a brief pause, he smiled a bit, "Just glad to have you watching over us all, Bigs. Thanks."

Softening her gaze, she relaxed a little. "Yeah. Right. Uh, you're welcome." The words came out haltingly, slowly, uncertainly.

Mary yawned, stepping off her chair. Finding a corner by the wall, she curled up against it. Neil found a spot in the middle of the room, on a tarp with a roll of coiled wired bundled up on one end. Using the wires as a makeshift pillow he lay down, facing the ceiling.

Soon, the room was filled with soft breathing and the occasional snore. Only Bigelow stayed awake, near the console, watching the screens, making clumsy clicks with her oversized metal gloves. With every click, her frown deepened a little more. On one frame, she paused. She looked at the feed, a tar-black one labeled Ninety-two.

In the feed a small beam of light appeared, the width of a pencil, on the screen. In its middle, a small figure hovered. Narrowing her eyes and blinking repeatedly, Bigelow, tried to press another button. Her glove hit a different one instead, brushing past another three buttons in the process. The feed was then replaced with a faint, fuzzy map.

Cursing, Bigelow leaned back until she stared more closely at the map's layout.

At its center, a small blue dot flashed, marked 'CONSOLE'. That was not, though, what caught her attention. What she noticed, and what she was intently staring at, was a large room near the center, in the shape of a circle.

It was labeled 'Ninety-two'.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Notes:_

 _ **NEW** : I've added a poll on my profile. I've got a few ideas in my head about what my 'Big project' will be. I know it'll include the original Star Fox cast, but some parts are undecided. I've got a few overall arcs in mind with significant differences:_

 _-Write about Fox, following the events of Command_

 _-Write about Krystal, post-Command_

 _-Write about James McCloud_

 _Just choose the option you like best. What it does is it focuses on who the story will follow, and what the events will be about. Again, thanks for the input._

* * *

"...so make sure to keep an eye on Marbles. We are doing okay so far down here, but the elevator's busted. We checked the stairwell, but its collapsed. I...honestly don't know how we'll get back to you."

Bigelow was sitting, asleep, with her back against the wall when her ears twitched and she let out a huge yawn, exposing every tooth she had. Screwing up her face, she licked some of her teeth, and swallowed, muttering a small noise of disgust as she did. She first looked at her helmet clock, narrowing her eyes at the 13:31 in faint green on her flickering HUD. Then, she turned her head to look at the console. There, she saw Neil, with his weapon leaning against the wall, as he was speaking into his helmet. Mary stood by him with a small bundle of wires and some duct tape.

"I'm gonna set this message to repeat. I hope that..."

Neil paused, taking one deep breath, letting it out slowly, then speaking, very softly. Mary was looking down.

"...I- _hope..._ well, that's just it. 'I hope'. I'm hoping, real hard, that y'all are okay. I've given you the best directions that I can, and everything that's happened to us so far. Maybe y'all can solve this puzzle. We're still trying. So far."

Another break. Bigelow looked at him, her gaze softening slightly. Not seeing her, he continued.

"Just want to make sure. I hope that y'all are okay. Be safe out there. This is Neil, ending the transmission here. Repeats after this."

A click was heard, and Neil pulled away a small box from from his helmet. Mary, reaching over, picked up the box and plugged the wire into it. The other end was plugged into the console.

"That's all we gotta do?" Neil asked.

"Yeah." Mary nodded.

"Mary?"

"Yeah?" Mary looked at him, warily.

"Thanks. For everything." He tilted his head forwards, looking at the ground.

"Oh. Well, uh, you're welcome...yeah." Mary stuttered a bit, but smiled a small smile.

The sound of heavy metal thudding against concrete was heard from behind as Bigelow stepped forward. Turning his head to look, Neil spoke,

"Huh. Well, good morning," he spun the chair back so his body was facing her, too.

"What was that?" Bigelow was focusing on the small box Mary had set up on the console.

Neil stopped, shifted his jaw a little, then spoke, "I...wanted to leave behind some instructions. Just in case."

He looked over his shoulder at Mary, "When we changed shifts, I kept trying to find Sandy. Couldn't. Maybe her radio broke, or-"

A small breath and a stop no longer than a heartbeat.

"-maybe they can't find us."

Bigelow kept looking at him, with the inner dome of her helmet exposed. Her jaw hung open a little as she narrowed her eyes, "Uh huh."

"...I'm not allowed to do that?"

"Well, it's just..." Bigelow winced, and spoke fast, "It's just that that's the only tracking thing you've got. The black box from your helmet. You sure you want to give it up? What if we need to find you?"

"I don't plan on leaving the group." Neil spoke firmly.

Bigelow searched her mouth with her tongue, bit her lip, then said, "Huh, fair enough."

A loud growl came from Zipper's helmet, as the brown dog's great metal limbs stretched out against the wall. Smacking his lips, he got to his feet. With one hand, he tried to scratch his groin. When the glove collided with the ceramic plating, he looked down, frowned and sighed out a ' _damn_ '.

"'Morning." Bigelow spoke without turning to face him: she was looking at an image projected onto her helmet-dome.

"Yeah, yeah, 'morning," Zipper, inside his helmet, took the rubbery hose near his jaw and put it into his mouth, taking a deep breath. Pulling his lips back, he sighed through his teeth, letting the vapor run into the dome's front. Blinking, Zipper yawned again. Mid-yawn, he saw the image projected onto Bigelow's dome, and made a questioning noise as he tried to stop the yawn.

"Yeaaahhahh-hheurgh? What's-, what is that?

"New plan." Bigelow spoke. She kept looking at the image, at the large circular room in the middle.

"So, what did you have in mind?" Neil leaned over in his chair, trying to see the projection. Mary looked on from the other side.

"Yeah, hold on." Bigelow pressed the chin of her muzzle on another tab on the inside of her helmet. Multiple maps, faintly colored bluish images with white highlights like X-ray photos, shone on the inside of her helmet. On each picture, the skeleton of the building was laid bare: each photo had the same rough outer edge that marked the building's outer wall, but the details inside the walls were different from photo to photo. One had several corridors that broke up into compartments; another was a series of great trapezoidal chambers that surrounded a single round room, linked to it with narrow hallways and small boxes; a third was devoid of almost any form of room, with a dark bluish void filling in the picture, save for one circular chamber, near the center, adjoined by a tiny box connected to its side.

On each map, one detail stood out. In the same position, on every map, that one circular chamber occupied the center, with that same little box, in each spot.

"These are all separate floors of the building," Bigelow started, "We are on the first one," She pointed with her muzzle at the one with the several corridors. Zipper was leaning over her shoulder, squinting hard through his dome. Neil was watching Bigelow's expressions. Mary was looking at her own copy of the map, projected on the inside of her helmet.

"The second one is... _weird,_ " She pointed again with her nose at the level filled with trapezoids, "But the last one is what gets me."

She tilted her head forward, nodding towards the image that was devoid of any details except the single circular chamber."

"So...I've got a theory," Bigelow was licking her teeth, then continued, "I think that that one round room, in the same spot as the round rooms on the other floors, is just one big cylinder, stretching up through the building, through each floor. I want to go there."

"Makes sense, whatever's there should be _big_. Maybe a teleporter. Or a gateway,-" Zipper spoke, leaning forward.

Mary interrupted, "-Or something bad. Like, _really_ bad."

Everyone stopped to look at her. Stepping back a little, she spoke up, defensively,

"Well, _think about it-"_ She went on, talking faster, "We are-, We're standing in what's pretty much the cross-section...of where Andross built a death-bunker on the ass-end of well, _Hell_."

Nobody spoke. She continued, "I-I can't believe that, that, well, we've seen the _worst this place has to offer_. Everything's broken, the people are gone, we can't find Sandy or Marbles, and we haven't seen _one_ corpse, not _one_."

She held up a finger, "I think that maybe, _maybe_ , someone is screwing with us. We aren't alone here, we can't be. And suit cat...well-"

She relaxed a bit, putting a hand on her helmet as she shook her head, "-I don't know about him."

"I'm with you," Neil stepped up, "we're sittin' on a powder keg, right now. We do anything wrong, and we might set off something worse. Like, I _know_ -"

Neil cast a wary look at the cracked ceiling, tracing the empty tracks where the wires once were, "- _know_ that there's something just, _unnatural_ here. Something just _rank,_ just... ** _wrong_**."

He kept going, "I want to get out of here. I want to make sure that we find the things that got Welsh, Gary, Crick, everybody...and that we find them and _put them down."_

Zipper's grip on his machine-cannon tightened, as he bared his teeth a bit. Bigelow nodded slowly, eyes fixed on Neil, and with her tongue pressed against her cheek. Mary leaned in intently.

"I don't want to see this place left standing when we're done. If-... _When_ we find a way out, and when we get Sandy and Marbles out, too, I wanna set the place on fire."

" _Fuck some shit up_ ," Zipper growled, smiling.

"Aw yeah," Bigelow cracked her neck, making a noise between a growl and a laugh. "Right, then. Let's go over everything we got one more time, and then get out. Lock the place behind us. Let's rock."

"Sweet." Mary spoke up, smiling bigger now. Zipper had pulled out his magazine with a metallic _chunk,_ inspecting the inside before he pushed it back in. Neil was checking his recording one more time. The room, for once, was filled with lively activity.

With a few more preparations, the generator was shut off, and the supplies tucked back into the corner. As Bigelow led everyone out of the room, Zipper stood at the rear, looking over the room one more time. Shutting the door with a great metal glove, a small, blindingly bright flare appeared again at its midsection, melting the metal one more time.

When the white light vanished, and a orange-yellow bloom of metal appeared to replace it, the room was silent again.

* * *

Somewhere, deep in the dark, a suited cat stood before a dim column of light.

He was standing, looking up, with his arms behind his back, facing the figure that hovered, turning ever so gently, a short distance above him. The fur on the bushy red tail rippled as it moved, with the zippers of the jacket twirling and tinkling as the figure floated.

The figure's expression was staid: the jaw hung a little, exposing only a few teeth, and the eyes were shut only lightly. The chest was unmoving, save for the occasional small wave of the jacket. A pair of black sunglasses, cracked, spun lazily above his head. Every motion of the figure and his clothes was almost infinitesimally small, and little dust motes sometimes floated in and out of the light, wandering, meandering into and out of the beam, disappearing in the shadow right beneath the figure, and reappearing as they found the light again.

All at once, the air changed. A rush of wind, cold as ice, swept across the beam, running past the suited cat and sucking all the warmth out of the room. The dust motes disappeared, whipping around violently before they scattered into the dark, and the clothes on the hovering figure flapped violently. The zippers chimed urgently, the jacket twisted and turned on the figure as though possessed, and the glasses were blasted out of the beam of light, clattering on the floor with one lens popping out of its frame as it landed, resting barely an inch from the suited cat's feet. The light dimmed. The whole place, already darkened, became even blacker, with the beam of light fading into a barely-discernible glow.

Through the whole thing, the suited cat did not move an inch. Not even his clothes stirred. His eyes were transfixed on the space behind the figure, with the milky whites of his vision betraying no response at all.

The freezing air stilled. A deafening silence wrapped itself around the room, swallowing the even the faintest sounds in its grasp.

Then, the air shook.

The air vibrated, much like the surface of a gong, but with an electric tinge. The very images of everything in the room became fuzzy, scrunching up at the middle, before flattening themselves again, the air rending with a noise that was all at once both mechanically unnatural and unreadily living. Behind the figure, a great wall revealed itself.

As broad as the horizon, and as tall as the sky, an image revealed itself on the wall. It was an image of pure, bright white, but crisscrossed with uncountably many smaller, blacker things. These images covered the entirety of the wall, from one vision's edge to the other, latticing the whole surface unevenly with thin, spidery, black veins.

Then the surface abruptly changed. It was swapped with another image, with the same creeping pattern, but changed slightly. The change occurred again, swapping the image with another similar one. Then another. And another.

The changes picked up speed, and the the images were moving impossibly fast, flickering like static across the whole wall. The thin, spindly, veins cracked the white surface again, and again, and again, only to disappear each time, replaced by new ones.

Somehow, even with the images appearing, the amount of light did not change at all. Instead, it looked as though the light was being sucked into the pattern, with the thin veins swelling and draining faintly as they flashed. The shadows of both the figure and the suited cat were facing towards the image: flickering, disappearing, sometimes for whole seconds, before they reappeared.

The air vibrated again, and the the electric breath shook the room. It came, unevenly, with staccato pauses in between each vibration, punctuating the air.

When the reverberations stopped, the cat's mouth moved. Lips making small movements, like the inching of worms.

When the cat stopped, the resonations came back; again, unevenly. Pauses interrupted the vibrations, gaps of silence popped through the noise. The reverberations stopped again.

The cat spoke again, in turn, unmoved by the great presence. More words.

The vibrations interrupted, pulsing, reverberating.

The cat replied, not moving anything but his mouth, talking, wording.

The static grew louder, reverberating, vibrating, insisting.

The cat kept going, repeati

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#$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~ ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~! #$%^&*()_)(*&^%$# #$%^&*^%$#$%^&*(&Y^&*(*&^%$# !#$%^&*()*&^%$# #$%^&*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! 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#$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~! #$%^&*()_)(*&^%$# #$%^&*^%$#$%^&*(&Y^&*(*&^%$# !#$%^&*()*&^%$# #$%^&*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #!(((*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&&^ !~~! !~! ! #$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! ^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*((*&^&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ )#$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! %^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()%&(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! ^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~ !#$%$#^$%&$^*$&(

The response was ear-splitting. The air sounded like it was being peeled apart, with the sound of crackling, breaking and rending joining the electric vibrations.

The cat, unmoved waited, then responde

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#$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~ ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~! #$%^&*()_)(*&^%$# #$%^&*^%$#$%^&*(&Y^&*(*&^%$# !#$%^&*()*&^%$# #$%^&*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$!~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*((*&^&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ )#$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()%&(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~ ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~! #$%^&*()_)(*&^%$# #$%^&*^%$#$%^&*(&Y^&*(*&^%$# !#$%^&*()*&^%$# #$%^&*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$#_ _$%^ &*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~! #$%^&*()_)(*&^%$# #$%^&*^%$#$%^&*(&Y^&*(*&^%$# !#$%^&*()*&^%$# #$%^&*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! 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#$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! $%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*((*&^&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ )#$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()%&(*# !~~! !~! ! #$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #!(((*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&&^ !~~! !~! ! #$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! $%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*((*&^&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ )#$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()%&(*# !~~! !~! ! #$ $%^%$&%^*$*^%(&*)&*(_)(*&(*&*&^%$# !# #$#$^%%&*(^*)(*))_)(_*((()__

The images of everything began to shiver, cracking through the middle.

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! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~ ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~! #$%^&*()_)(*&^%$# #$%^&*^%$#$%^&*(&Y^&*(*&^%$# !#$%^&*()*&^%$# #$%^&*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*((*&^&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ )#$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()%&(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! 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#$%^&*()_)(*&^%$# #$%^&*^%$#$%^&*(&Y^&*(*&^%$# !#$%^&*()*&^%$# #$%^&*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #!(((*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&&^ !~~! !~! ! #$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! $%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*((*&^&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ )#$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()%&(*# !~~! !~! ! #$! ########! !_**

The cat said a word. The noise stopped.

Silence hung in the air. The cat said two more words, before the noise returned

 ** _#$%^ &*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~! #$%^&*()_)(*&^%$# #$%^&*^%$#$%^&*(&Y^&*(*&^%$# !#$%^&*()*&^%_** ** _^ &*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~_** ** _$# #$%^ &*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #!(((*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! _****_^ &*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~_** ** _! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$ &&^ !~~! !~! ! #$^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*((*&^%$%^Y&*(* #####! _**

He said the word again. Once.

Silenc

 **^ &*()(*&^%$# $%^&*()*&^%^&**^%R$# #&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! !#$$%^&*#$$%^%$(*&^&*&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~!**

Another. The vibrations grew weake

*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! ! #$%^&*()(*()(*&^%$# ! #$%^%$# ! ! ! # ! !~!~~!~!~ #$&^%$#$%^&*(*&^%$%^&*()!(*&^%$%^Y&*&^%$# ! #$

One more time

*()(*&^&*&^%$]*()(*&^%$%^Y&*(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*()(*&^&*&^%$# ! #$# !~~! !~! !

Finally, the vibrations returned to their original pitch. With the staccato pauses and the popping breaks.

The cat replied.

The vibrations ended.

The wall, as quickly as it appeared, vanished. The light returned, but the air was still cold, and the dust motes had all but disappeared.

Turning to the side, the cat paused with an indecipherable expression:

His eyes narrowed, and the corners of his lips turned upwards, slightly, but only for a second. He fixed his tie, dusted his lapels, picked up his suitcase and walked to the side. Turning, he saw another beam of light. So faint it could have been mistaken for a mirage.

He turned towards it, looked at it from the bottom up, and rested his eyes at a point a short distance above him. Another flicker of an expression. Vague.

He turned back, walking into the dark. When he disappeared into it, the sound of a metal door grinding open echoed through the place, followed by a slam.

No more sound.

* * *

A great, dark hallway, filled with rubble, began to shake. Between the cracks of the rubble, some thin streams of light poured through. The rocks, rumbling, began to fall forward, landing on the ground with great crashes of noise. The crashes came at a rythm.

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._

A loud grunt came from the other side, and a red shoulder pad came through. Off of its top, some small tubes hung by their wires, with their small, pinpoint lights flickering in the dark. The tubes dangled, and a curse came from the suit.

"Goddamn it. Launcher's broke."

The shoulder pad pulled back, disappearing into the other side of the pile. Another voice, exasperated, snapped at him.

"I told you-lean in with the side, not the top. Tear the broke parts off. Here, watch."

Another great metal shoulder pad slammed through, breaking more rubble and forming a hole the size of someones head.

"See? Better."

"Your spotlight's gone."

" _No its n-_ , oh."

Some more silence, followed by a thin plaintive voice:

"Can't we just use the grenade launcher to make a hole?"

"In here _? '_ Corridor this small? In a _rickety building_?"

"...was just a question."

"Relax. It's...It's fine. Hold on-"

The sound of scraping, followed by cracking, came from the wall. Bit by bit, blue metal gloves, followed by red ones, widened the gap. Minutes passed, with grumbles and growls followed by snapping and swearing, and the opening became wide enough to fit a suit through.

"Go first, Zipper. Can't see crap with my busted lamp. Also, break the launcher bits off. I know they won't go off without a command signal, but _please_ , don't blow us up."

"Right. Roger."

After the brief sounds of tearing wires and metal came from behind the rubble, Zipper stepped through the hole, spotlight beaming through the dark. With the beam sweeping across the wide walls, and the sounds of pebbles echoing through the room and across the tall, vaulted ceiling, Zipper scanned the room. He spoke,

"Yeah, I think I found the trapezoid room."

The voice echoed, bouncing off the walls and reverberating through the dark.

Neil clambered through the hole, with the flashlight on his helmet carving a smaller path through the inky dark. The room stretched, half a kilometer long, from where the group stood near the opening, to the furthest corner of the floor. In the corner, visible only from the glint of the spotlight beams flashing off a reflective "CAUTION" sign beside it, stood another pair of windowed, double doors.

"The door!"

Neil froze, calling out right as Mary finished screwing in another bulb cap into Bigelow's spotlight. Zipper instantly leveled his machine-cannon at the door on the far end. Bigelow pulled up hers a split-second later. Bigelow spoke, softly,

"What? What'd you see?"

"The cat, I know it."

Zipper instinctively looked at a corner of his dome, where a small series of concentric circles was projected onto the surface of his helmet. Every second, the circles would fade, only to pulse faintly and reappear until fading again the next second. Every circle had a tiny number, too fuzzy to make out, that was inscribed into each circle's edge, with some digits missing. Scattered all over the projection were dark marks where the circles faded or burned out. At the center, were two green dots, plus a half-dot. Staring at this sickly green projection, he tried to focus on the the rings, which rotated as he moved, spinning the cardinal directions that tagged the outermost edge of the circle.

With a frustrated sigh, he called back,

"Got nothing. False alarm, man-"

"Wait, hold up,"

Bigelow was staring at a similar projection inside her helmet as she called out. Narrowing her eyes, she focused on a bright dot that appeared furthest from her. Opening her mouth to say more, she stopped, then relaxed as she saw the dot hold in place as she moved her helmet.

"Wait, wait...yeah. Yeah. Just a smudge. I think...yep. That's...that's burned riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight into the projector. _Crap_."

She stared bobbing her head from side to side as she saw the stubborn cluster of light that refused to budge on her helmet.

"Damn it. These things suck." Zipper breathed out angrily, nostrils flaring, "I'm pretty sure I even had ghost dots show up, right between us, before they disappeared."

"Wait, _what-?_ " Mary started, before she was stopped by Bigelow,

"Relax. Common bug," Bigelow sighed, "Sometimes even shows _nothing at all_ when you're surrounded."

"Oh, wow, that's _bad,_ " Neil let out an acerbic laugh, "how did any of you _survive_?"

"I mean, like, yeah, it _works_. Just, you know, when it...wants...to," Zipper spoke, and near the end, slowed down, speaking acidly.

Looking down, and kicking the dust, he added, "Sometimes, it even forgets to show all four of us on the map."

"So its useless?" Neil asked,

"Well, not _useless_. I'd rather have it than not-," Bigelow answered, quickly, "-Its _almost_ useless. There's a difference,"

She looked down, gimacing, " _Kind_ of."

The opossum, relaxing, motioned for Bigelow come down again. Bigelow, kneeling down, kept going as Mary began to re-affix another cover for the spotlight. Bigelow muttered, softly.

"I _wondered_ if we might need replacement bits. Good thinking, taking them off the empty suits."

Mary looked up, hesitated, then mumbled, "Yeah...uh...no, problem," as she finished pushing it in. She knelt back down, closing her kit and picking it up again,

"This is just... _my job_."

A small pause hung in the air. Zipper tapped a great metal boot on the ground. Neil coughed. Bigelow answered quickly,

"Seriously, though. Thank you. We-we wouldn't have gotten this far without you," She talked fast, the words tumbling out as she spoke.

Mary just looked at her, before speaking, with a voice barely louder than a feather falling.

"Yeah, uh...thank you."

Bigelow, looking relieved, stood, and looked at her shoulder. Clicking something insider her helmet with her chin, the spotlight turned back on, piercing the dark in a broad beam, Bigelow nodded, pursing the lips on her muzzle, "Hm. Nice."

"Best I could, well, _do,"_ Mary said.

Zipper spoke up, "Can you fix a laucher?" He pointed at the dangling wires on his shoulder.

"Uh, no. Didn't spot any on the suits. Sorry."

"Dang. _Right_ then." Zipper sighed, tapping the LED screen on his gun, _The Great Equalizer_ , frowning, "shoot, this better not be on the fritz, too-"

Zipper punched his gun. The green numbers flickered from 999 to 250, "-Ah! better."

"Like a good Katinese. The more I beat her, the more she loves me," He chuckled with a wry grin.

Bigelow gave Zipper a deadpan look. He returned it, shrugging, "What? 'S true."

Rolling her eyes, she spoke, "Just, _come on_."

She started to walk in the direction of the door, leading the rest of the group across the floor of the massive room.

 _ **BOOM!**_

At that moment, there was an explosive sound and a rush of freezing wind. Neil and Mary staggered, falling down. Zipper and Bigelow barely kept their balance. The double doors on the other end of the room slammed open, revealing a pitch black hallway. The spotlight beams faded, and for a moment, looked like they were _bending_ in midair. They were curving towards the doors.

Zipper's eye made an involuntary twitch as he snapped his gun towards the door with a growl. Bigelow aimed a split second later, training her sights on the door. Mary, on the ground, visibly shuddered as she tensed up, mouth open in shock as her fingers curled reflexively.

No one spoke. Neil staggered as he tried to get to his feet again. He reached a hand for Mary, who took it, and pulled her to her feet. Bigelow, with her heart pounding, blinked, startled at the sight of vapor _inside_ her helmet. Her teeth began to chatter.

"What...cold?" Zipper spoke up, with his jaw quaking. The clicking of teeth could be heard over every radio. Like a chorus.

"Is everyone okay?" Bigelow's teeth stopped chattering, and the vapor in her helmet began to disappear. She relaxed, with her strained features softening as she stared at the edge of her helmet.

On the inside of her helmet, on the inner part of the dome, a thin cover of condensation appeared. It was small, fogging up her view only slightly, but it was there. Bigelow called out, again,

"Say, my heaters are kicking in. Still cold outside though."

"Huh, yeah," Mary spoke up, "This is..."

She looked at the bent spotlight beams again, "...I don't know _what_ this is."

"Everyone good? Come on, on your feet, people," Bigelow snapped out orders, slowly stepping towards the door.

The small team grouped back together, following Bigelow as she took the lead. Frightened expressions were replaced by grim, but determined looks. They all, together, made a steady march towards the door. The only light left came from their few spotlights, casting a sickly yellow aura around any body they swept over, against a near-perfect canvas of pitch-black night.

Over the radio, one small mutter was heard, "Not from me. Not getting away from _me_."

The black hallway was closer, and the group closed in on the doors, which had settled back into their original positions, leaving only a thread-thin crack between them. Bigelow stopped right before the door, and motioned for Mary and Neil to come close. With a few hand signs, she motioned towards the door handles. Neil took one side of the double-doors, with one hand on a handle. Mary, more hesitantly, took the other door handle, and stood on the other side. They waited as Bigelow stood a few paces back, kneeling so her rifle was trained on the crack between the doors. Zipper stood behind her, with his own gun trained on the doors.

Bigelow held up one metal hand. It was blue, but chipped away in spots to reveal dull chrome beneath. Five fingers.

Neil tightened his grip. Mary swallowed, with her breathing getting shallower, shakier. Four fingers.

Bigelow narrowed her eyes, licking her lips, her teeth beginning to bare. Three fingers.

The great metal gun selectors _clunked_ into a new position. Two fingers.

A great rusted trigger began to move. One finger.

No fingers.

 _BANG!_

 _BANG!_

Mary and Neil yanked the doors open, slamming them against the walls opposite each.

Silence.

Bigelow, easing her finger off the trigger, leaned forwards a bit, casting the beam of her spotlight into the dark. The beam behaved normally, lighting up a nondescript hallway that ended in a single elevator shaft. Bigelow, letting out a long, ragged breath, began to focus her eyes back on her helmet dome. The condensation had disappeared.

"...uh, clear," Bigelow relaxed. Zipper sighed, growling.

Neil stepped away from the door handle, apprehensively leaning towards the mouth of the hallway. Bigelow stood back up, looking around with her spotlight. It had brightened up, and no longer was curving in midair.

"Huh. Well, whatever it _was_ , its gone now." Bigelow spoke. Mary replied,

"What _was_ that?"

"No idea. Let's...let's just keep going. Less time we're here, the better," Bigelow, sighing, and with the bags under her eyes getting deeper, started down the hallway.

One by one, the rest of the group followed. Zipper, at the rear, cast one look back over the room they had just left. Blinking, he squinted at something at the other end of the room. Looking back at the projection in the corner of his helmet, he scanned the small image. The projection pulsed dully in response. Looking back at the corner of the room, Zipper narrowed his eyes, then turned back, pulling the door closed behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Notes:_

 _End's coming up soon. It may be this chapter, followed by the final chapter. When I'm done, I'll rearrange the whole work into about 4~5 chapters, stitching the smaller ones together for ease of reading._

 _Poll is still up, and now with another option. If you want to change your vote, go ahead._

* * *

 _Edited: some minor grammar changes, and an announcement:_

 _I said earlier that I'd let y'all decide who the next fic would focus on. Right now, the most popular option is James. The next story will be about him, but a few things I should say, first. One, the story that I had in mind that was the most fleshed-out was one that would be about Fox; in James' case, I have a rough framework and an overarching plot, but its not as extensive or detailed. I was betting that people were hoping for a Fox fic. So, the plan is to go ahead with the story about James. Second, since I don't want to leave behind the ideas I've got for Fox, I've decided to write both stories._

 _I feel really bad about having said I'd do something, and then do something else. I'm sorry if you feel like I've misled y'all-I shouldn't have made a promise that I couldn't keep._

 _That said, I *will* be writing about James. I promised that. But I'll also be doing a story about Fox at the same time. If y'all think this is a bad idea, please PM me or leave a review to let me know._

* * *

"Last call. Everyone good?"

Bigelow was standing before the group, speaking as Zipper shut the door.

"'Cause back there," She pointed one armored hand at the other end of the hallway, "Is the elevator to the chamber."

She turned back to face them. Neil had his tongue pressed against his cheek. Zipper stepped forwards, putting his rifle against the wall, and folding his great metal limbs. Mary, seeing everyone, stood a little straighter.

"Whatever we're gonna face up against, we're gonna see at the other end of the elevator shaft. We got ammo, and our suits should be fit to last another day. Right now's the best time to make sure _everyone has their shit in order,"_ the last few words were enunciated, with Bigelow's eyes piercing through the dark from behind her tinctured helmet dome.

" _Do you understand?_ " She was looking at each face. Zipper. Mary...Neil.

Zipper tilted his head forward. Mary swallowed. Neil only watched.

"I'm saying this because, well..." Bigelow's voice trailed off for a moment as she looked down, "because I am grateful."

Every head looked up. Zipper stopped leaning against the wall. Mary saw Bigelow's face, and furrowed her brow. Neil narrowed his eyes.

"I...I just, well..." Bigelow began to stutter, "We...none of us, have known each other for long, have we?"

Bigelow's expression, usually hard and focused, relaxed. The bags under her eyes grew larger, and her voice became very, very soft.

"We've hung around each other, for what? Three days? Four?" She looked up, scanning the crowd, "None of us ever really talked on the ship. I think, maybe, at best, we all saw each other's faces a...handful of times before even getting on the shuttle."

"But now, we're knee-deep, at the end," she swallowed, "and we've, what? Lived? Struggled? Fought. We've fought, for the past sixty, seventy hours, just to find a way home. It's...weird. We used to be _strangers,_ "

She looked at Neil, "But we've each, each and all of us, worked together, even though we had every... _good_ reason to panic, to run, to abandon everyone," She managed a wry smile, so thin you could miss it, "But no one here did,"

She looked up to Mary. Mary's eyes watered, and she began to sniffle a little. Zipper's expression grew a little softer, letting out a rumbling sigh. Neil kept watching, unfolding his arms.

"We're here," Now, Bigelow's voice began stopping at intervals, pausing between words "I am, _grateful_...that the people here, out of everyone I could've found or gotten stuck with, want to help me. Want to help strangers," Bigelow sniffed once, "I know...that it's hard to go and put your trust in someone you...barely know,"

She looked at Neil, smiling the same wan smile, "It didn't come easy," she tilted her head, laughing a bit. Neil paused, then formed a small smile with a soft gaze.

Bigelow looked at everyone one more time, "The next bit, won't be easy," her gaze hardened, and her jaw clenched, "We've got what's probably gonna be the way out, at the bottom of that shaft. We're working off of nothing but a hunch, here," She looked down, grimacing "All of you have been following me, for no reason but that."

She looked back up again, eyes focused, "but then, that's what we've always had, right? A hunch,"

She looked at the group, but this time her face had changed. She was proud, "My hunch is that we can do good a little longer."

Zipper made an affirming grunt. Mary made a weak, but hiccuping, laugh. Neil walked up, and held up a fist. Bigelow, unsure for a moment about what to do, put up her own fist.

Neil bumped his closed hand into hers, and then, dryly, he spoke, "Odds are, you're wrong: I'm not sure if we even have a hunch to follow. But whatever you're doing, you're doing right. I'll follow you Bigs. Even if you're, y'know, kind of a softie. "

Bigelow, surprised, gave him a deadpan look. Neil, at first, made a small smile, then, it spread: after a few seconds he bore a wide, toothy, happy grin. Seeing this, Bigelow shook her head and spoke again, in a much louder voice,

"Now, then." Smiling, and with determination scrawled into every feature of her face, she spoke, voice raised, "Let's _rock_."

The group turned towards the elevator, taking long strides. Someone started humming. As everyone assembled in the single elevator shaft, Zipper spoke, grinning big:

"Express delivery of whoop-ass! Going down!"

The doors shut behind them, leaving the hallway silent once more. In the distance, loud tapping footsteps echoed throughout the passage.

* * *

At the bottom of the structure, there was a wide room, filled with consoles. Arranged in rows, like the steps of a terrace, every row faced a single, large screen at the front of the room. At each side of the room, balconies were built, with small rows of seats that all faced the same screen. Beneath these balconies were massive machines: gray, tan, and black wires were bundled into coils that interconnected each machine, and each coil was bound by tarnished rings.

On the shelves, there were racks of files, switches, and a single coffee machine, its bowl stained black and with rust eating away at its metal edges. Chalk boards on wheels were scattered throughout the room, each holding their own designs. One was a diagram of a smooth lump, drawn next to a silhouette of a person with a scale beside him. Another was a series of tables with scribbled notes in the margins. A last one held an image of a great circle, built into the ground, with several objects drawn entering and exiting it. At this moment, the machines lit up.

A low rumble at first, in the distance, followed by loud, tonal beeping. The chittering of the neighboring machines followed, joined by chirping of the consoles. Screens lit up, panel LEDs made little pinpricks of greens, yellows, and reds in the dark. In one corner, some sparks flew from a portable generator as it sputtered to life. The low, breezy sigh of air vents flooded the room. The _swish-swish-swish_ of fans from the air ducts could be heard past all the chattering and clicking of the computers.

On the screen, an image flickered. It was of a massive, circular chamber, with an unusual-looking portal carved into the floor. Small figures moved around the edges, covered in heavy, protective suits. As they moved around, the image suddenly grew darker, and the portal in the floor was shown as a faint outline on the ground.

One of the figures stepped to the far end of the circular chamber, and pulled a heavy red switch built into the wall. The moment it was brought down, the portal began to glow orange. Soon after, slowly, an object rose from the portal. It was a metal box, attached to a great rocket engine. The small figures clapped, stepping backwards as a great metal arm reached down and grabbed the satellite, towing it upwards.

The claw pulled the object aside, and then reached over the portal again. Figures scurried around it as it moved, with some waving offscreen and calling out through their suits.

Then the image shook. The center of the feed scrunched up at the middle, and the orange portal began to flash, casting arcs of white lightning that zapped the nearby machines held by the metal arm. Figures scurried around, diving for cover. Some were struck by the arcs of lighting and disintegrated, scattering the others nearby. One figure ran towards the feed, waving at the camera and then hitting it with his hands as his mouth moved, stammering in place.

The feed broke up, with spotty, curling strands of black and white static interrupting the process. In the brief moments that the feed reappeared, a great column was shown, occupying the portal surface. It was crystal white, and latticed with red veins. Inside it, a strange, shifting soup of bulbous shapes swirled inside. Then the feed ended.

The machines died down, and the humming, chirping, and swishing of everything that once moved, fell silent again. The darkness overtook the room one more time, and the only lights that remained were the thin, red, emergency lights on the floor.

From the rear of the room, a faint *ding* echoed through the place. The loud thudding of metal boots followed, and Bigelow, Neil, Mary, and Zipper, moved along in silence.

With their spotlight beams piercing through the dark, Zipper whistled, "Dang. I think we found the command center."

"Not sure about that," Mary interrupted, she pointed at the chair-filled balconies, "Maybe also an auditorium."

Bigelow and Neil had split up, with Neil looking at the computers, and Bigelow looking at the chalkboards. She glanced past the one with the blob, grimaced, and moved on towards the one with the portal, next to another board which held a table of notes, scribbled into each column.

"Hey, guys, look here," She nodded her head towards the image, "I think-"

The group gathered up around her. With Zipper looking past her left shoulder, Neil on her right, and Mary in front.

"-we got our ticket outta here," She pointed at the image, with the objects moving in and out of the portal, "-I am willing to bet that this is our teleporter."

Mary narrowed her eyes, staring at the table of notes on the other chalkboard, as she read aloud:

"...The...Applied Entanglement Fritz-Heurer Tunneling Device works to deliver a fixed mass from one location to another through a spacetime 'tunnel'. The tunnel has been proven effective at moving nonliving _and_ living matter intact and unharmed-" faces lit up at the sound of the last few words, "from one location to another through treated lattices of-"

She moved her head down the table, jumping several paragraphs "...blah, blah, blah, want to demonstrate its effectiveness at moving and disposing matter. Huh, neat."

She looked at the next table, which listed several smaller, one-word notes with some crossed out:

* * *

GATE 07: METEOS BELT

GATE 08: TITANIA

GATE 09: MACBETH

GATE 10: CORNERIA

GATE 11: AQUAS

GATE 12: VENOM

GATE 44: CERINIA

GATE 45: SECTOR X

GATE 46: SECTOR Y

GATE 47: SECTOR Z

GATE 92: PRESENT LOCATION

GATE 99: NONPLANAR X

* * *

Orange chalk marked Gates seven through ninety-two. Red chalk marked the last gate. One gate, crossed out, was scribbled in green. Gate ninety-nine had an additive note that was a hasty scrawl, which Neil read aloud:

"GATE 99 is a non-viable terminal, due to conditions hostile to _any form of matter_ that passes through. Though it can be interacted with, it cannot be recommended for any use other than harmful material ejection. Material that enters GATE 99 destabilizes on transmission and is broken down into radiation on the other end of the gate, which cannot leave the gate. For safety, a white light on the control switch will indicate successful transmission to the opposite gate, if the gate is viable. Non-viable gates will be indicated by red lights. Huh. Neat."

Mary, seeing some of the names, clicked a button on her helmet, and a flash lit up the room, briefly. The image then appeared on her helmet visor.

Looking at the diagrams, Neil shifted his jaw, then spoke: "It looks like we can set the exit portal from inside the test chamber, but how can we be sure that it works?"

Bigelow answered, "We test it. Everyone here's wearing enough protective gear to survive a lot of radiation, so we should be okay. We can toss a clip or something into the gate, then see what light the terminal gives us."

"Right. I can see the entrance," Zipper pointed at a sliding glass door across the auditorium.

Beyond the glass door, a small room with a concrete floor held blast shields that covered windows in the side. Chairs lined up facing the blast shields, sitting in front of a thin panel of controls. Beyond the chairs, on the other side of the room, was a huge metal door, with interlocking braces and massive screws and bolts that held it in place.

The group walked towards the glass door and stopped in front of it as Mary worked on the nearby keypad. Unlocking it, the glass door slid open, letting the group inside. Above the great metal doors the words AIRLOCK flashed. The moment that the group entered, the doors began to unlock, startling them. With the sound of concrete scraping against metal the doors slowly opened, joined by the noise of hissing hydraulics. The group stood still for a moment, and stared at the door that had opened unbidden.

After a short pause, Zipper turned to Mary and slowly asked,

"...Mary? Was that you?"

Before Mary could answer, a faint cry was heard from the airlock, followed by a low grumble.

Zipper froze, Neil's jaw dropped in shock, and Bigelow's ears perked up.

"Is that..?

"No...?"

"Marbles?"

"Sandy!"

"Sandy? Sandy! _Marbles! SANDY! MARBLES!_ "

Mary rushed forwards, tripping once, landing on her face, got back up and bolted into the room. Neil, Bigelow, and Zipper followed, hot on her heels. They entered the dark airlock in a rush, spotlights and flashlights snapping from one corner of the room to the next as they all called out for Sandy and Marbles. As they stepped around, the metal-grated floor clanged with each footstep. The walls, when illuminated, were lined with wires and CAUTION signs. One held a first aid kit next to a fire extingusher.

Neil looked past all of these things, and kept calling. Then he stumbled a bit, tripping as he stepped on something. As he was on the ground, he reached over and picked up a small black box, connected to a bundle of wires, and with an stray bit of duct tape on its end, attached to a small speaker. The speaker, crushed, made only electric stuttering sounds, occasionally interrupted by a pair of distorted, tinny voices.

Bigelow, seeing Neil, walked over and leaned over him. Her spotlight lit up his helmet, and the box he held up to his eyes.

Bigelow's eyes narrowed, then widened, as she stared at Neil's black box.

Neil turned to look at her, his eyes wide with shock. Bigelow asked, with an edge of bewilderment,

"Neil? Is that...?"

The metal door behind the group slammed shut, with the hiss of hydraulics joining the resounding _boom_ of metal hitting metal. The four were left in darkness, with nothing but their spotlights and a thin beam of light that came from a slit in the middle of the metal door, made of reinforced glass. Neil, followed by Bigelow, Zipper, and Mary, walked up to the slit and peered through.

On the other side, staring into the slit, was a suited cat.

He stared at the slit, brushing off his lapels. Seeing this, Bigelow's mouth opened, first in shock, then into a snarl of bared teeth, " _You...!_ "

Not responding, the suited cat went to adjusting his tie. When he finished, his gaze adjusted, only slightly, to look _through_ the slit, staring at Neil.

"You son of a bitch. _You son of a bitch!_ " Neil began to yell at the window slit. He was joined by Zipper's low, deep growling. Mary only watched in shock.

His expression was vague. Almost apologetic. He tilted his head forward a bit as he pursed the lips on his bald muzzle. Then, a faint smile played across his features, lasting only for a second before he turned around and walked towards the console near the blast doors. After hitting some keys, he stood straight and walked back to the sliding glass door.

The moment he hit the keys, a loud siren echoed through the airlock. Vapor hissed from the corners of the room, and a flashing orange light cast a spinning shadow on the walls.

"Shit! Shit-!" Zipper dropped his rifle, and began hammering the doors with his fists, with loud clanging reverberating through the airlock. Neil was swearing at the cat, even though the cat had just gone from view. Mary was looking at the door opposite the one Neil was at, and was watching it slowly open.

Bigelow, in her great suit of blue armor, turned towards the opening door.

The sight that greeted her stunned her, and for a moment, she could not respond.

Before her, in a great circular chamber, was a massive, crystal-clear pillar, stretching from the ground all they way to the roof of the structure. Covered in a spiderwebbed lattice of thin, trickling red veins, the column stood in the middle of the portal, which emitted no light.

Swirling inside the column, were shapes.

Bones, muscles, cartilege, fur, flesh.

Arms, legs, organs, hands, faces.

Scizleck. Harry. Johnson. Howard.

Gary. Crick. Welsh.

Marbles.

Sandy.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Notes will be at the end this time._

* * *

 **For a few breathless seconds, Bigelow could only stare.**

Right in front of her stood **nothing less than a nightmare.**

 **Every shape swirled, f** or _ming a de **nse** mass o_ f fleshy pulp,

 **Circling** insid **e** **the great pill** ar **at the center of the ro** om.

The shapes _changed_ **, but the column stood still,** **_towering_.**

Bigelow began to _shake, she could_ feel her heart **thundering** ;

Hammeri **ng at the space** behind her eyes. She cou **ld feel** it.

It was alive, and it _hungered_. Faces pressed against the walls.

Cracked skulls, tendon spurs. Tattered clothes, soaked darkly.

The **entire room, the ci _rcular_** **_chamber,_ see** med to close in.

Walls leaned **ov** er. **The tall, broad ceiling began** to descend.

The hammer kept _hitting_ her in her brain. _Thudding, throbbing_.

She **tasted water. Salt. Te _ars were rolling_** **down he** r face.

 _H_ ** _owling._ Yelling. Crying. She wanted to run. Run away.**

The to **p of the Column** began to _rise_. The swelling of _disease_.

 **A shap** e, draggi **ng, cr** awled over _the_ ** _topmost e_ dge, falling.**

 **A great, wide body, and a thick, quivering, orange mass.**

It fell, _careening_ ove **r the edge, landing** with a **wet splatter.**

A great **, sickly spattering** of fluids **splattered** across the floor.

For a few moments **, i** t made no other moves **, no other sounds.**

Then, it began to rise. **_Fatty_ lips and a _jagged_ maw** , c **licking**.

Veined fat and clusters of bone, _knitted_ together by sickly sinew.

The **th** ing **rose, pulling** large **, darker** **shapes back into itself.**

 **Then it began to move, slowly _crawling_ , towards Bigelow.**

She tried to run, bu **t she felt every muscle clench, burning.**

A **prickling chill _flooded_** down her spine, the feeling of doom.

Her vision _bubbled_ , with swirls of **black sp** inning before her eyes

The mass **oozed up** , **gurgled** , **crawled** , **mumbled** , _**hungering**_.

Amber **eyes wid** e open. Mouth unbearably **dry. Can't swallow.**

 **Teeth** **chattering**. **Heart** and **brain** **pounding**. **Bile** welling up.

It came **closer** , with its swollen lips concealing the **sharp maw**.

BIGELOW SHOOT GODDAMN IT SHOOT IT WHY AREN'T YOU SHOOTING KILL ITfumbling with great limbs and broken-

 _BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!_

The thumping sound of a grenade launcher howled into the dark. For a fraction of a second, three tiny lights spiraled into the creature's great mouth, trailing smoke behind them.

 _BANG-BA-BANG!_

Three short explosions, flashes of bright light and clouds of dust, erupted from the thing. Chunks blew away, with small spurts of red sprouting from thick, solid masses that were torn free from the body. Bigelow's grenade launchers smoked in the dark. Her right hand had a death grip on the launcher's trigger, just to the side of the tube itself.

Zipper let out a howl, and yelled a war cry:

 ** _YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!_**

The sound of thunderclaps, rattling out at a dozen each second, came from Zipper's great rifle. His outer helmet cover closed, revealing an intricately decorated skull painted on the surface. In front of him, another great mass creeped forward, unyielding. The creature didn't even acknowledge the shots. They _shlupped_ past the creature's skin, passing right through and only leaving small, weeping sores where each bullet entered. It closed in, dragging itself, frothing at its orifice.

Leveling his gun at the creature's center, he kept firing. His eye darted to the LED counter on his gun, which flickered as it counted down:

211

178

135

99

48

Zipper's heart raced. It got closer. He could count its _teeth_.

For a few seconds, the creature opened its great mouth, until some of the rounds pierced a dark mass near its center.

The sound of a shrieking howl, came from the other creature. Dark pools formed in its body, making a clouded, murky shroud around its organs. It halted, then began to sink into a quivering, sticky puddle. The moment the puddle spread, another creature spilled from the top, gnashing and crawling forward, and then another.

Neil began to fire his rifle into the nearest creature, stepping back quickly as the other closed in.

Bigelow, gasping, keeled over and took deep breaths. Her mind cleared somewhat and she looked up, bleary-eyed, at the newly formed puddles.

Bigelow, narrowing her eyes, and focusing on the bleeding, solid chunks, called out, with a stuttering, halting yell:

"B-BRAIN! HIT IT IN BRAIN! THE BRAIN!"

Mary backtracked, rushing in one direction, then fleeing in another, changing course every time her path was blocked. She started to panic, bawling, open-mouthed.

 **YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAH _HAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!_**

Zipper paused, but only for a second. One great metal clip _bonged_ against the ground before he went back to firing at the next creature oozing towards him. The green LED numbers on his cannon ticking down at lightning speed as he laughed.

Bigelow, seeing more clearly, lumbered over to Mary. She closed her outer helmet dome and scooped her up, putting her over her shoulder. Mary barely moved in response. Bigelow, instinctively, looked for Neil.

Sweeping her spotlight to the left, she saw the flashes of Zipper's rifle, with its thunderclap-echoes shivering the surface of the great column in the room.

Sweeping it to the right, she another creature. It opened its mouth, and in a lightning-quick motion, a great appendage flashed out, striking Bigelow's midsection.

Bigelow staggered backwards as alarms in her suit blared. Pieces of ceramic and metal flew off, _clanging_ on the ground. She took several steps back, scanning the pair of creatures. Leveling her gun at the nearest one with one arm, a storm of shells punched through the nearest thing. The shells punched through its flesh, and it squealed. Moving backwards, she took her arm off of Mary, who hung limply on her shoulder by her grenade launcher, and started to shoot the thing with both hands on her rifle.

It reacted, shifting its insides. The beating purplish organ would move while the beast came closer and closer, lashing out with its long, spike-like tongue. With a chittering shriek, it finally fell, melting into a pool of sickly yellow fat, bones, and veins.

Bigelow looked up at the top of the pillar as yet another creature fell down to the ground. She looked at her LED counter on her gun and saw the number at 44. With a great clang, she removed her clip, and replaced it with another. She looked at her motion sensor. It showed nothing. Swearing, her eyes darted around as her breathing grew shallower, with her brow furrowed until she noticed one movement. Someone sprinting. Darting between the creatures in the shadows.

Dodging, diving, and ducking, Neil was sprinting towards the red switch on the other side of the wall. An appendage stabbed out to pierce him. He was struck, in his leg, and went down with a yelp. Scrambling back up, he covered the next few feet on all fours before he was running to the switch.

Bigelow's eyes widened, and a wave of realization dawned on her face.

 _99._

 _He's got to set it to ninety nine._

"HEY! NEIL! YOU NEED TO-"

SCHLURK-WHOCK!

Another appendage struck out, and Bigelow fell over, with Mary sprawling on the ground in the dark. More metal bits clattered on the ground. Bigelow staggered up, rifle in hand. She swung her spotlight around, frantically searching for Mary's body. Her foot collided with something, and as she moved around to face it, she was face to face with one of the creatures.

SCHLURK- _CRASH!_

The appendage flew out, lunging like a spear, and punched through Bigelow's helmet cover. Less than five inches from her face, Bigelow saw a writhing, coiling, purplish-red vein, twisting like an eel, sticking out of her helmet wall. Bigelow yelped and sprang backwards, with the vein popping out of her helmet. In the distance, she heard a curse, and then a echoing clacking.

Alarms sounded off in her helmet, and a hot flood of dank air flooded her nostrils. Hitting another button with her chin, another cover locked into place, sliding right beneath the punctured dome. After it slid in, a loud _bang_ resounded through her helmet and her outer cover popped off, smacking another creature. She now had a single transparent dome protecting her face. As her outer cover popped off, she saw a monster peeling off bits of checkered yellow armor from its mouth.

She began to step backwards, shaking, still scanning for someone, _anyone._ Mary disappeared. The mad howling of Zipper stopped, and she swung her spotlight to where the brown dog once stood.

A single great creature, crawling onto something, stabbed multiple tongues into its victim. Appendages flicking in and out, pulling away metal, wires, limbs.

Seeing this, Bigelow's jaw began to chatter again, with her eyes widening as bits of red armor and scarlet bone got pulled from the heap. Qucikly, she turned back to where Neil sprinted. He was limping, clutching his leg. One of his arms had a broad gash, with tatters of his suit hanging off. He placed both hands on the switch, twisting a knob so that the numbers on the side flickered from 42 to 99. It looked like he was leaning on the thing for support, even though he madly scrabbled his fingers over the panel.

As he grabbed the switch, an appendage lashed out, piercing his gut. He screamed, falling down as the appendage dragged him towards the creature.

"NEIL!" Bigelow yelled, charging towards the wall. She took great strides, lunging past another monster as it began to close in. It was followed by the creature that had only just finished its red meal.

Running up to the beast near Neil, Bigelow fired into it, point-blank. It gave a shrill scream, before dissolving into another puddle. Reaching down she scooped up Neil onto her shoulder and then locked her eyes on the switch.

With one hand, she brought it down with an electric _crackle_.

 **SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!**

Red flashes sparked in the darkness and a great scream, piercing loudly enough to make the air shiver with an almost electric tinge, ripped through the room. The portal glowed, and the column began to sink.

The shapes in the column began to roil, like guts, squelching and writhing as the column sank into the portal. Cries came from inside it, joining the screeching that tore through the room.

Bigelow, jaw agape, watched only for a second before she saw the two last creatures closing in. Stepping far back, she placed Neil as gently as she could on the ground before placing both hands on her great gun.

At this point, Bigelow's expression changed from frightened shock, to calm, collected _fury_. With an open-mouthed snarl, but with eyes fixed on the creatures, she began firing at the larger one, with her great gun thundering as the LED ticker went down.

180

146

103

68

25

3

Wet, flashing red sprays peppered the floor as one monsters dissolved, withering away under the hail of shells. The next, a bigger one, grew closer, and lashed out its long whip-tongue.

It struck Bigelow in the side, and as it tried to retract, she grabbed hold of it, pinning it in place. The creature tried to pull the tongue back, but couldn't pull the great metal suit on the other end. Bigelow dropped her rifle, and grabbed a hold of it with both hands. The creature made a series of frantic chitters, and tried to pull away.

One hand crushed down on the tongue, holding a vise-like grip on the slimy appendage, pulling it in. Followed by the other, grabbing a hold a few feet up. Then the other grabbed again, pulling it in closer. Then again. And again.

For a moment, it struggled, but then changed course. Right as it was a few feet away, it lunged.

Bigelow felt a great smothering weight, crushing the whole of her body, and her vision blurred as the thing's great body swallowed her whole.

 _Oh. Oh no._

She only saw fuzzy shapes. She tried to move her legs, but they felt like they were treading molasses.

 _Dammit, no!_

Looking though her helmet, she saw a long, purplish thing slithering towards her helmet.

 _GOD DAMN IT!_

Her arms waved around, searching for a grip. Nothing but a thick soup.

 _FUCK!_

The tongue probed, swimming though the creature's thick body.

 _SHIT! NO!_

It was making a beeline for her face.

 _WAIT, what-_

Her hand closed on something. Something firm, but tender.

 ** _AHA!_**

The tongue held still, then pulled back, tense, ready to strike.

She closed her grip on the thing, and felt it break. A flood of dark red enveloped her.

She heard a muffled, gurgling shriek, like something yelling underwater, and then the weight dissolved.

She looked straight up, staring at the ceiling as the fluids and fat rolled off of her body, pooling around her in a thick, soupy puddle. She lay there for only a second before getting to her feet, with her teeth bared as she panted. Seeing the column, she stared, wide-eyed at its demise.

The column kept sinking, and the spider-webbed veins on the column began a panicked throbbing as the forms inside writhed and roiled. One last panicked screech: an ear-piercing, tortured scream of pure rage and agony.

 _ **SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!**_

Then the top of the column sank into the portal, disappearing from view.

Then silence.

Bigelow stood, gasping.

In front of her, the portal glowed a dull red.

Around her, there were bones, rolls of discarded fat, chunks of meat, and coils of veins, scattered.

Scanning, wide-eyed, Bigelow let out a shuddering exhale, and bent over, staggering as she tried to walk over to Neil. Around her, the lights began to dim. The red light faded, replaced by a bright green.

Though her fingers trembled, she gently tried to cradle his head. His eyes were closed, and when she reached him, he was gasping, taking shallow, shaky breaths with his eyes screwed up in pain. His teeth were colored pink, with small red bubbles forming at the corners of his mouth.

"Neil? Neil! Come on, come on."

Bigelow frantically looked around, and her eyes rested on the dark red patch on his stomach.

"Eyes open. Open. Come on. _Please._ "

With a pair of great metal gloves, she gently, carefully covered up the hole in his midsection and pressed down. Taking off one hand, she reached for a white box strapped to her belt and yanked it off, leaving a bit of plastic stuck to her armor.

"B. Bigs. Big. Bigs. Bigs."

Neil was repeating the name, even though he was gasping.

"It's gonna be fine. Fine. I'm here, hold on." Bigelow's eyes watered, and she fumbled with the kit, struggling to work a metal finger into the latch.

More wracking coughs, and Neil's eyes opened, bloodshot. Seeing her, he cracked a weak smile.

"H-Hey, Bigs."

She stopped, then, while looking at him, she leaned in to look at his stomach wound. Her mouth opened and her eyes stung.

 _I can't help him._

The realization made her blood freeze. She looked again at his wound.

 _I can see his spine._

She felt like her heart had just been hollowed out and filled with ice. Her jaw trembled, but she kept going, finally working the latch open. She fumbled for the gauze, and for some small syringes,

"C'mon, c'mon, just hang on Binch, just hang on. Please, _please_ , just _hang on_."

Neil's head lolled back, and he let out more coughs, joined by gasping. Bigelow grabbed his arm, and pressed a small syringe into his wrist. His breathing slowed, and his eyelids began to blink. They fluttered, drooping closed. His chest still struggled, even as Bigelow pressed a wad of gauze into his stomach.

"No. No. No-no-no." Tears.

"Not everybody, not everyone. Not me, alone. _Please_."

She pressed down on his stomach. He relaxed, but barely kept breathing. Bigelow kept looking at his face. The green glow grew brighter.

The bobcat's features, once strained, relaxed. His eyelids were shut. His tall ears were shifted out of place in his helmet, cocked to the side and through his visor, his mouth opened only slightly, revealing a few of his front teeth. Dirt and grime had covered his cheeks, with a thin froth of pink gathered at the corner of his mouth. His nostrils softly moved with each breath, moving his dry nose only a little.

He looked almost serene.

"Damn it, damn it! No..." The tears were rolling down her face. A trail of mucous drained from her nose, and her bloodshot eyes kept searching the nearby kit for something, anything, that could help.

At that moment, footsteps emerged from the dark.

Ears twitching, Bigelow looked up, still cradling Neil's head.

Right in front of her, a few footsteps away and right by the switch, was the suited cat.

He had set the number to a new value, and now had a hand on the switch.

"...Hey, wha- HEY-!" Bigelow, shocked, began to yell.

He yanked it down, full force.

Right as it came down, everything flashed bright green.

* * *

Bigelow was temporarily blinded, seeing stars, and her hand reached out, pawing at empty space. Opening her eyes, she was in a very dark room. Looking around while blinking the stars out of her eyes, she looked at the spot where she knelt. Neil's body had disappeared. Staggering up, and looking around frantically, surrounded by almost nothing but darkness, she struggled to speak for a few seconds before she started calling out:

"N-Neil! Where are you?! NEIL! N-!"

Her gaze swept until her spotlight fell on the suited cat, no more than five steps away, on the other side of a faint beam of light.

In a few seconds, her jaw had opened.

"I-I...I'm going to kill you."

A few seconds more, and she was snarling, brow creased in rage.

"I...I'll kill you...I'LL...I'LL _KILL_ YOU! I'LL TEAR YOU TO GODDAMNED _SHREDS!"_

Her voice was a roar of fury, and she raised her arms to grab him, but the suited cat only looked up with a calm face.

As she was about to lunge, the corner of her eye caught something. Something overhead.

A few feet above her head, floating in the air, was Neil.

He was perfectly still, with the tatters of his suit rippling gently in midair.

"W...What?" Bigelow stared upwards, mouth agape, as the suited cat walked up. He stopped, leaning in and whispering by her ear.

Bigelow froze. The cat kept speaking. When he finished, he stepped back and looked at her expression, studying her face.

"What? But...but...no. No. Never," Bigelow stammered, clearly shaken.

"I...am... _not..._ letting you keep him," She continued, growling.

The cat looked slightly disappointed, tilting his head, and speaking in a low, creeping voice.

"You do. not...have. that option."

"...Why?"

"He will...die. He will...live. if. he stays."

Pauses between words. Bigelow only looked more confused, then angry.

"I am _not_ working for you, and you _aren't_ keeping him-" She stopped, staring at the cat. His gaze was directed to the side, at another beam of light, with another person suspended in the air.

Bigelow tried to form more words, but her voice failed her. She saw the other figure, and another next to that one, beside another, and another.

An endless row of beams of light stretched into the dark, holding a person in each light. Bigelow's eyes widened, and she fell to her knees.

For a long time, she was silent.

The suited cat, after some time, walked over and stood by her.

After a while, Bigelow staggered, standing straight. The tear marks on her face had left small tracks, and the mucous had dried on her face. Her eyes were raw and bloodshot. She spoke, without turning, and asked, very quietly,

"There...isn't...any... _-any_...other...way?"

"It's, an... _exchange,_ " The last word hung in the air.

"But...no other way?"

"No...other way, where. you... _both_ survive."

Another pause. Minutes long.

Bigelow whispered, faintly, quietly,

"...What do I have to do?"

The cat's expression flickered, and a smile played across his features, lasting only for a second before he walked away from the beam of light, into the darkness.

Watching, Bigelow was confused. She stared at the exact spot where the suited cat disappeared until, in that spot, a metal door screeched open, revealing a bright white light beaming from it.

The suited cat stood by it, his silhouette standing out, with his pointed ears curling at the tips and his eyes glowing in the dark. The tail flicked.

Bigelow did not move for a few seconds, then she took a few steps forwards. She stopped, hesitating, and then bit her lip as she kept walking until she was right in front of the bright doorway.

She squinted as she tried to see into the door. The light was not dissipated at all by her helmet dome and she tried, tilting her head and shading her eyes with her arm, to see further into it.

Turning to the cat, she spoke, slowly:

"You _will_ save him."

The cat only looked at her, and for a second, wore a vague expression. A brief half-smile, followed by a blink and a blank stare.

"You _promise_." She kept looking at him, bloodshot amber eyes stabbing at him through the dark.

No response.

Bigelow, seeing the expression now, unsure, turned back to the door. She tilted her head forward, closed her eyes, and mumbled something.

Taking a shuddering, deep breath, she snapped her eyes open, looked forwards, and stepped into the light.

As her great frame disappeared into the bright light, the door closed with a grinding, metallic slam.

The cat, looking at the door one more time, adjusted his tie, then walked away.

The beams of light with their suspended figures were the only things left behind.

One thing had changed, though.

One figure was gone.

 _ **End**_

* * *

 _Alright, that was my first fic!_

 _Liked it? Hated it? Let me know in the review sections or shoot me a PM._

 _Don't worry, we'll see these guys again, but you'll need to be patient-this is not the end for them. Not for good._

 _Also, I think I'll leave the chapter structure as it is: I looked at the way I set up all the hooks and cliffhangers, and I think it looks better this way._


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